Casket of Ardon
by Loopstagirl
Summary: When dangerous thieves seek out the mystical Casket of Ardon, Arthur and Merlin find their friendship shattered. Will things ever be the same again? And what does the mysterious thief want with Merlin?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: As much as i would like to, i don't own Merlin or the characters mentioned! :(

**Well, here we go, another story time. I know, i know, i'm supposed to be working on the sequel to Web of Fear, but i keep getting writer's block for that one and this kind of sprung out instead.**

**it's kind of set between series 1 and 2. Although you could have it later if you wanted, there is nothing too specific, its things like references to the Dragon and the way Morgana's character works that gives it that setting!**

**Many many thanks to MagicbyMerlin for betaing this for me, again, and to PirateMoose for, quite frankly, putting up with me whilst writing this! Thank you both muchly, you're awesome!**

**So, without further ado, here it goes:**

Three men stood silhouetted against the darkness of the stone wall behind them, the moon casting their shadows mysteriously against the blackness of the night. Logically speaking, you should not have been able to see their shadows; but this place was no ordinary cave. His breath steaming in the frozen air, one of the men impatiently rubbed his hands together, trying desperately to get some warmth circulating within his frozen limbs. He quickly stopped, however, when the man at the front of the group gave him a sharp look. This one was clearly their leader: he stood tall and with a sense of pride that his two companions seemed to lack. Standing completely motionless, he watched the small opening, barely daring to breathe. Wishing beyond all sense, the man prayed that this was the night their dreams would come true. He had been waiting a long time for the moment when the cave would open and allow him access to the treasures beyond. Not just the gold and the jewels – he had gained enough of them by robbing every village that he came across. No. This time, he was after a much bigger prize. The supposed legend of the Casket had been told to him on many different occasions, as he tried to piece together whether the myth could possibly be true. It was only after years of patience – as well as numerous planned killings – that he was finally standing before this opening.

As the men waited, an ominous groan sounded through the air, the sound bouncing off the stone surrounding them. Two of them shared a look; their boss was not going to be pleased. Even as they watched, the fissure in the rock once again sealed itself, leaving no evidence that it had ever been there.

"No!" the leader of the thieves cursed as loud as he dared, his heart sinking into his boots. It was all for nothing. The boy that they had taken from a nearby village was supposed to have been able to penetrate the defences that surrounded the cave that lied within. Apparently, the stories of his magic had been greatly exaggerated. Although to be honest, the men were not surprised. In a kingdom where possession of magic meant certain death, once you had been found out, you may as well make yourself seem to be more of a threat than you really are. But it had cost this boy dearly. It had cost him his life.

"So what now, boss?" The man who had been fidgeting had a hoarse and cracked voice, as if his throat had been constricted too much for the words to force their way through. That was partly true, although the fierce battle against ten well-armed soldiers was far from the truth. It didn't look good for a callous thief to admit getting on the wrong side of his own father.

"What do you think? We're going to have to find someone whose magic is strong enough to get us the Casket. Once that is in our power, Uther Pendragon will rue the day that he declared magic to be evil. We'll show him just how evil it can be."

"But how?" the second one asked. His voice was a lot softer, almost like a musical note shimmering through the night air. It didn't suit his ruthless personality at all, but did give him the chance to get close to either their intended victims, or any maid that grabbed his fancy. He had more confidence than his companion, but still feared the wrath of their leader.

"Since the king banned magic, it has been harder and harder to get people to admit to using magic. And since that witch – what was her name again? Nimueh or something like that? Anyway, since she was killed, any hope of getting to the Casket died with her."

"What about her killer?" the second man asked. He had heard a lot about this young warlock, although his reasons for pursuing the topic were kept hidden from his friends. This would be the perfect opportunity to have a reason to meet him, without having to cover it up.

"Hmm," the leader stroked his small beard thoughtfully. He was fond of his beard and always kept it in good condition, believing that it made him look far more opposing. Not being the tallest person around, he was determined that no one would ever laugh at his height. "That might just work. Tyson, go and fetch him here. We will wait for you in the woods. You have three days. Do not fail me."

The man with the musical voice nodded his understanding and strode off into the trees. There was no fear of him failing his boss; he knew all too well the consequences of that. However, he had an added incentive for fetching this warlock. If he succeeded against the cave, then all of them would achieve their dreams of possessing the Casket. And if he failed, then he was not worthy to be called Tyson's son.

**So...what did you think to chapter 1? Please, please review and let me know! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter, i appreciate it more than you know! :) Here comes chapter 2:**

"I can't believe you fell off, Merlin!" Striding into his chambers, the crown prince of Camelot still couldn't believe the fact that his clumsy servant had managed to fall off his horse when they had only been going at a walk. He really didn't want to know what would have happened if they had reached the cantering stages. He had a feeling that he would still be trying to scrape Merlin off the forest floor now.

"I told you, she reared. It's not my fault that your stupid horses have a nervous disposition!" Merlin was angry, not only at Arthur for the constant teasing, but also at himself for allowing himself to be put in this situation. It _really _hadn't been his fault; something had spooked the horse, and before he had had time to react, he'd found himself eating leaves. Of course, if it were Arthur's horse that had reared, then the amazing prince would have somehow managed to stay in the saddle. He should have known that he would never be able to live it down, not with it happening in front of a certain prat.

"Are you insulting my horses?" Arthur began, mock seriousness in his voice. He couldn't believe how badly Merlin was taking this; he had been witness to some of Merlin's most remarkable accidents, after all. The case with falling off the stable door after a mouse ran out and surprised the servant was the best to date, but today may have just topped it. Of course, it naturally meant that Arthur had been handed an opportunity on a plate for teasing, and normally, Merlin gave as good as he got. But today, something was different. The servant had been in a bad mood all day. Perhaps it was because he had managed to get out of bed on time for once and was now feeling the effects of the loss of sleep. With Merlin, anything was possible.

Merlin didn't respond verbally to Arthur's comments, but instead rolled his eyes in an elaborated manner. The prince was right; he had been in a bad mood all day, but he couldn't help it. Nor could escape the feeling that he was being watched, and it was really starting to spook him. At first, he thought that it could possibly have been that blasted dragon, but his pride refused to allow him to go and confront the beast; he had sworn as much the last time he had been there. But now, after the feeling had continued throughout the night and then he had woken up to it – or more specifically, it had woken him up, numerous times – he wasn't in the best of moods.

Starting to get annoyed about the lack of response he was getting from his servant, Arthur also began to get slightly angry. The two of them were friends normally, but it was occasions like this that Arthur felt he should perhaps remind his dark haired friend that he was the master, after all, and that there was only so much a prince could take. Watching the boy closely for a few moments, Arthur couldn't help but think that Merlin's eyes had a very far away look about them, as if something was troubling him. But the prince shook the thought almost immediately. Surely Merlin would tell him if something was wrong? Worrying himself by how much he cared, Arthur decided to take it out on the poor figure in front of him.

"Seeing as you dislike my horses so much, why don't you go and get better acquainted with them? The stables need cleaning out. Go and see to it, Merlin. Oh, and make sure you leave your mood there; I need you present later as I am dining with my father."

"Yes, sire," Merlin responded tonelessly, and stalked out of the room, feeling the gaze that the prince sent after him burning into the back of his head. He _knew _that he really needed to snap out of it before Arthur became really suspicious, but somehow his normal infectious happiness seemed to be buried deep within him at the present. He wasn't even sure what was wrong, only knew that it was something to do with the feeling of being watched. Although he had no idea what could possibly be watching him, he knew that it was something that possessed some sort of magic. He could _feel _it.

The mucking out of the stables seemed to take forever, and all the while the feeling grew. At last, the final stable was as spotless as Merlin could make it, and the exhausted warlock trudged wearily back into the castle. By his reckoning, he would have time for a quick freshen up and a change of clothes before returning back to help Arthur change. Then would be the long tedious time of standing and listen to Uther prattle on for hours on end, normally about how deadly magic was. How Arthur didn't just fall asleep, Merlin didn't know, but he begrudgingly admitted that that was yet another thing that he admired about the prince.

Dragging himself out of the stables, Merlin didn't notice the cloaked man until he crashed straight into him.

"Sorry!" he cried, trying to remain on balance himself as the stranger wobbled. Merlin looked into the man's face and felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn't know how he knew, but somehow every magical part of him was screaming warnings at him. This was the person who had been following him. This man was dangerous. This man possessed magic.

As the man looked coldly down on him, Merlin muttered a quick apology and sped off, trying for all the world to look as if he wasn't running. Letting his feet carry him, Merlin skidded to a stop with a start and to his amazement, found himself outside Arthur's door. _"Of course,"_ a little voice within his head sounded. _"Where else would you go when you feel threatened?"_ Trying to catch his breath, Merlin risked a glance out of the window and his heart almost leapt as he saw the cloaked figure disappear through the castle doors. There was no way that he could be mistaken now: this man, for some unknown reason, was following him.

*

Tyson cursed to himself as the servant boy crashed into him, not bothering to respond to the boy's apology. The boy was lucky that Tyson was on a mission, otherwise the thief would tell him exactly what he thought of his manners. The small amount of magic he possessed could be put to good use for letting people know what he thought. Unfortunately, however, it wasn't strong enough to get through to the cave, but it had been enough to help him track down his target. It was starting to annoy him that he kept seeing this black haired servant everywhere. He was certain that his son would be in the finest rooms in the castle, tricking people, mainly the king, into getting what he wanted with his amazing magical skills. Yet so far, he had seen this same boy fall off his horse, then follow the prince around, obviously acting as his servant. And now here, crashing into him.

Tyson hurried into the stables, the place where he expected to find his son, only to find it empty. The pull of magic quickly tugged him away again, back towards the castle. This really was turning into a wild goose chase, and yet Tyson still had not caught a glimpse of his heir.

**Let me know what you think? **


	3. Chapter 3

**A huge thank you once again for all of you who have taken the time to let me know what you think, i appreciate it all soooo much! Hugs to all!! :)**

Merlin stood shakily in the corridor, not sure what to do. He knew that this man posed some sort of threat to him and had obviously been the one following him all day. Every instinct was yelling at him to go to Arthur, to tell him of his suspicions. But to say what? That his magical instincts were telling him that there was a strange man following him who was providing a sense of danger? Sure…that would go down well with the prince. However, his mind was made up for him. Even as the stitch in his side began to reside, leaving him feeling a lot better than before, he caught a glimpse of the cloak swish around the corner, weaving ahead of its owner. With a small cry, Merlin did the only thing he could think of. He crashed through Arthur's door and into the prince's chambers, falling over his own feet in the process.

Arthur had decided to take the time between his hunt and dinner with his father to relax. He had tried to have a nap, but his restless mind would not allow him the sanctuary of sleep. Although he didn't want to admit it – least of all to himself – his mind was on Merlin and his strange mood. So the prince had found himself gazing out of the window, something that he often did when he was troubled. The beautiful kingdom that stretched out as far as the eye could see often calmed his restless thoughts, filling him instead with a sense of calmness and pride. Watching the tip of a tree wave gracefully in the light wind, Arthur visibly jumped as his door burst open behind him.

Spinning on the spot, the prince's hand instinctively went to his belt, only to realise that his sword was resting on the edge of the bed where he had discarded it earlier. His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline when he saw that it was Merlin who had gracefully thrown himself through the door like a tornado and was now struggling to his feet.

"_Mer_lin," Arthur began, his previous irritation with the servant returning after being so rudely interrupted. "What _are _you doing?"

Merlin, once again, did not respond to the prince. Arthur sensed that this was different, however, and it was not because of annoyance that meant Merlin was ignoring him. Frantically pulling the door shut, Merlin let his gaze sweep the room quickly, as if looking for a place to hide. The look on his face meant that Arthur's irritation disappeared as quickly as it had resurfaced. Whatever had been wrong with Merlin earlier was nothing compared to what he was seeing on his face now. This time, Merlin was frightened. Arthur frowned at him, confused, wondering what on earth could have possibly bought on this change in behaviour.

"Merlin," he began again, aware that both his confusion and his anxiety were evident in his voice. But before he had a chance to voice his concerns, Merlin cut in.

"You have to hide me!" he cried, sounding almost close to tears. Arthur started; he had never heard Merlin sound so vulnerable before. But unless he knew what it was that troubled his manservant, there was simply nothing that he could do. Part of Arthur was slightly touched that it was his room that Merlin had fled to for safety, rather than returning to Gaius.

"Please," Merlin begged. As Arthur strained his ears, he heard footsteps echoing down the hallway outside his room. To deepen his confusion more, they stopped right outside the door. One look at Merlin's face was all he needed to know. He too had heard the footsteps and they were the reason behind his fear. Motioning him over, Arthur silently gestured under the bed. Thankfully, Merlin was alert enough to know what Arthur had meant. Goodness knows how many arguments that the two of them had had because of misinterpretation of hand signals. Dropping onto his stomach, Merlin crawled under the bed. It was lucky that he was so skinny; for the gap was narrow and the warlock wasn't sure that even Arthur would have been able to fit. Just as he tucked his feet out of sight, there came a knock on the door. Merlin held his breath as Arthur gave permission to the person to enter, sure that his pounding heart was about to give him away.

The door slowly creaked open, as if the person on the other side was not sure what he would find lying within. From his position under the bed, Merlin could only make out a pair of boots shuffle into view, but even they told him quite a lot. Whenever he was dragged along to the courts with Arthur, he was supposed to stand with his head respectfully bent. Whilst it really hurt the back of his neck, it had given Merlin a good sense of how to judge people by the shoes that they wore. These boots were obviously expensive, yet the man shuffled as if he didn't belong in them. They hadn't been made for him that much was for sure. Amidst the hurricane that was Merlin's thoughts, he did vaguely wonder how they came to be in the man's possession.

Arthur was receiving quite a different view to Merlin. The man's shoes were the last thing he was looking at as he held his head high with pride. Arthur certainly knew how to put on his best prince's act; and as this man had scared his servant, he was going to make sure that he left feeling extremely intimidated. The way that the man's face fell into shadow by the cloak instantly made Arthur suspicious, wondering what he had to hide.

"Well?" he demanded rudely. He knew that if his father had heard him, he would receive a lecture on manners towards guests, but there was no king nearby to protect the stranger from Arthur's fury. _Unfortunately for him_, Arthur thought grimly to himself.

"My most humble apologies, my lord. I was looking for someone who is of great importance to me and an…informant told me that he was to be found in the presence of your most graceful lordship."

Merlin wondered if Arthur had also caught on to the pause before the word 'informant', or whether it was just because he knew the man was using magic that he was looking for any evidence to give him away. But Arthur hadn't noticed. He was too taken aback by what had come out of the man's mouth. For someone who looked as scruffy as a beggar, he had the voice of an angel. That, along with the respectful praise, nearly made Arthur give away Merlin; if he hadn't caught sight of the pleading pair of blue eyes gazing at him from under his bed.

"You're informant must be wrong. There is no one here apart from me. Be on your way now."

The man bowed low and backed out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind him. Arthur perched on the edge of his bed and ran a hand distractedly through his already tussled golden hair. The man's voice scared him. He had nearly given away his closest friend to someone who obviously scared him just because this stranger had asked him. That was why he had so abruptly dismissed him, anxious not to give him another chance to weave the magic with his voice. For that was what Arthur had decided it must be. Magic. No wonder Merlin was scared.

"You can come out now," he told the boy under the bed, wondering whether it was his imagination or whether his voice did sound that far away to Merlin as well. Merlin slowly crawled back out, his eyes wide. Arthur couldn't help but notice how young Merlin looked when he was scared.

Once Merlin was sitting cross-legged in front of him on the floor, Arthur pulled himself from his chaotic thoughts and addressed his servant.

"Who exactly was that?" he demanded angrily. It wasn't really Merlin that he was angry at – it was himself. For allowing that man to enter the room, for making himself doubt himself when it came to Merlin. Could he honestly say that it was the man's mysterious, magical voice that nearly made him give up his friend, or did he not care for the boy as much as he thought?

"I don't know," Merlin began, somewhat apprehensively. He had held his breath throughout the encounter, wondering what on earth was about to happen. He could tell that this man's voice had some sort of power; he had noticed the way that Arthur had hesitated. It hurt him to know that Arthur had considered turning him over, yet tried not to dwell on it too much, determined to think that it was the magic he had been sensing all along. Even so, it did make him wonder whether he could still trust Arthur. Little did the two boys know, but this was the exact reaction Tyson had been aiming for. Make them start to doubt themselves; then his son would follow him without a second thought; for although he had not seen the servant cowering under the bed, he had sensed the presences of another person in the room. Someone who possessed powerful magic. Someone who he knew to be his son.

"I keep running into him all over the place. I think he's been following me all day. In fact, now that I think about it, I think it was him who spooked the horse earlier."

"That doesn't explain why you were so scared of him. He said that you were someone of, and I quote, 'great importance to him'. Yet you really have no idea who he is?"

"I've told you, Arthur. I don't know who he is, nor have I seen him before today. But you didn't see the way he looked at me outside the stables. If you had been on the receiving end of that glare, I'm sure that even you would be scared of him…" Merlin sighed in exasperation. He really wanted to tell Arthur exactly why he was scared of this man, but knew that that was the last thing he could do. The way that Arthur was looking at him made him realise that his master did not believe him in the slightest and was still annoyed at having his afternoon interrupted.

"Very well," Arthur sighed. "Go back to Gaius and get cleaned up. You can't exactly come to the feast looking like that."

Merlin stood up and walked out of the room without another backwards glance. He certainly had been tetchy today. His voice sounded so accusing; as if he knew how tempted Arthur had been to give him up. Frowning at the shadow disappearing down the corridor, Arthur once again ran a hand through his hair. He was getting the feeling that Merlin didn't trust him, and that hurt the prince. He knew that he would trust Merlin with his life, without a doubt, yet the sense that the feeling was not returned was a painful emotion that Arthur wasn't used to.

**Oooo.... review?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Again, thank you so much to those of you who have reviewed, you guys are awesome! Keep them coming, nothing makes me happier than recieving that email saying i have a review!**

Tyson stood behind the corner that led from the prince's room. He was starting to get really annoyed now, knowing that his boy had been in that room, yet hidden from his sight. The sun had just begun to set, its golden rays filtering through the window and causing him to have to keep shifting his position so as not to lose sight of the door. He only hoped that the magic he had sent flowing into the room was doing its job. He wanted his son to want to come to him. Although he would resort to kidnap if necessary – anything to please his master – part of him wanted to be reunited with his son in the way that he had only been able to dream about. And to do that, he needed to cut him off from his friends. The magic didn't take a lot to work: some self doubt here, some uncertainty there. He knew that it would only take moments for any occupants of that room to start bickering and have their faith in their friends shaken. It was remarkable how little effort it took to plant the seeds of doubt.

The cloak casting him in shadow, the thief stood motionless. One thing that he was good at was making himself invisible; he didn't need magic for that. To his delight, it didn't take long for the door to burst open aggressively and for a figure to come stalking out. The magic had done its job; there could be no denying that. To Tyson's utmost annoyance, the figure that came stalking out the door was that same blasted servant that he saw everywhere. Yet, even as the boy walked unsuspectingly past him, the pull of magic echoing deep within Tyson told him that this was the boy that he needed. He knew full well that there had only been one other person in the prince's room and also knew full well that Arthur Pendragon was the last person he wanted to become aware of what was going on. But did that mean…could it possibly mean that this boy, this _servant_, was the greatest warlock of all time; that he was Tyson's heir?

For the first time since Tyson had set off on this search, he was unsure. He had been more than positive that his son would be using his magic to his advantage. With a father like Tyson, what else would be expected? If that had been the case, it would have been all too easy to play on his want for riches and make him come to the cave. But if this was the case – that this servant was in fact his son – then things would have to be done quite differently. It looked like he would have to play on the boy's heart as well as his head, something that was a lot harder for the thief. There would also be the matter of the prince. If the boy was the servant to the crown prince of Camelot, then getting him out inconspicuously was going to prove to be another unforeseen issue.

*

Unaware that he was once again being followed, Merlin stormed down the corridor, drawing looks of amazement from all the other servants that he passed. He had something of a reputation for being mild mannered and kind, although the quarrels he had with the prince were becoming something of a legend. To Merlin's discomfort, some of the lower servants had begun to view him – the servant who would stand up to the prince – in awe. They seemed to have forgotten the fact that the two of them were friends, rather than just master and servant, something that made standing up to the royal prat a lot easier. Merlin wasn't thinking about any of this, however. His mind was far too preoccupied with the latest argument. What was unnerving him more than anything else was that it hadn't_ been_ an argument, just the lack of trust on both sides. You can say sorry for an argument; how do you say sorry for not trusting someone when you know full well that they are thinking exactly the same?

Bursting into Gaius's chambers, Merlin continued on his frenzied march and went straight up to his room. Ripping his shirt over his head, he then clambered into a new one, splashed some water on his face and ran a hand through his black hair. Satisfied that he at least looked as presentable as he ever would, Merlin then marched back out of his room and into Gaius's workshop. He hadn't planned on staying, but the look that Gaius was giving him meant that the warlock knew he would have to explain his bad temper to his mentor, or else risk an irritated physician on his hands as well as an annoyed prince.

Looking at him expectantly, Gaius used his foot to push a stool across to the warlock.

"Sit. Come on then, what has happened this time? And don't even think of saying nothing, Merlin. You have a face like a thunderstorm."

Merlin slowly sat down, wondering how he was going to explain what had happened between him and Arthur. Should he tell Gaius of his suspicions about being followed, or would that cause Gaius to stop trusting him as well?

"I'm not really sure," Merlin began quietly. He glanced up into Gaius's face and realised that the physician thought he was trying to avoid talking about it. "No – well – I mean – I know what has happened – I'm just not sure how or why it has happened. Gaius, do you think that Arthur used to trust me?"

"With his life, there can be no doubt about it. What do you mean, 'used'? He still does!"

"I'm not so sure. You should have seen the way he looked at me, Gaius! It was as if he never wanted to have to see me again. And I think I know how he feels…"

"What, by all that is good in Albion, has happened between the two of you? You have had quarrels before, but nothing ever like this."

"That's the point," Merlin said earnestly, determined to make Gaius realise how it happened in the hope that the physician would have the answers to the problem. "Nothing happened! This man came in and spoke to Arthur. Then when he left, it was as if he took all the trust out of the room with him. Almost like magic. Do you think that was what it was, Gaius? Magic? He made us fall out for some reason."

"Well, before I can speculate on anything, it would help if you told me who this man was. I can't accuse someone of using magic when I don't know who you are talking about."

"The creepy man," Merlin said, glancing over his shoulder at the door as he spoke, as if expecting the stranger to materialise just because he was being spoken about. "I think he has been following me all day. My magic is warning me that he's a danger, but it is his voice, Gaius. It's like it has been coated in honey and he can paint pictures in the air with it!"

But before Gaius had the chance to respond, a fist hammered on the door.

"Merlin! Prince Arthur wants you!"

Merlin took a deep breath as if readying himself to go and face the prince again, and stood back up, self consciously smoothing down the front of his shirt as he did so. He didn't want to give Arthur another reason to have a go at him.

"Oh, Merlin, one thing before you go," Gaius cut in swiftly, knowing that he had been meaning to tell the warlock of this all day, but had not yet been given the chance. "Try to keep Arthur out of the forest. Rumours abound that thieves are running amok, trying to gain access to the Casket of Ardon."

"The what?" Merlin asked, all previous hurry forgotten as he latched onto the new topic with interest. He could tell just by the way Gaius said the name that is was something magical, powerful or dangerous. Maybe even a combination of all three.

"The Casket of Ardon," Gaius repeated, amazed that the warlock had never heard of it or come across it in his magical book. "It is said that whoever possesses it can control the darkest of all magics and are supposed to be unstoppable. Now, I know that Arthur would probably want to go and hunt down the thieves, but legend also said that to gain access to this dark magic, you need to possess some sort of magic yourself to get past the obstacles guarding it. It would be far too dangerous for a Pendragon running around a forest when there are sorcerers after dark magic in there."

"I'll tell him," Merlin replied thoughtfully, his mind racing with this new knowledge. "But I doubt that he will listen to me. He never does."

Lost in thought, Merlin slowly meandered out of the room, nearly crashing into the doorframe in the process. Gaius smiled after him, shaking his head at the clumsiness of his charge. It certainly didn't take a lot to distract Merlin, especially if was to do with something magical.


	5. Chapter 5

**A huge huge thank you to all of the reviewers so far, you are making the updates worth it! Thank you so much! :)**

**Sorry about the chapters being quite short, they do get longer later, i promise!**

Merlin was so wrapped up in thinking about this mysterious casket that he, once again, didn't notice the cloaked figure crouched behind the door. Even though every magical sense that the warlock owned was tingling in warning, he simply carried on walking down the hallway, looking almost as if he was sleepwalking. Tyson watched him go, thinking that he may have just found the way to get the boy to leave. He had heard every word that had passed between Merlin and the physician. Although he was slightly annoyed that the older man had told the young warlock of the danger of the casket, meaning that he wouldn't simply go and fetch it for them, he had provided Tyson with all the evidence that he needed to know that this boy was the one whom he was searching for. Not really knowing whom it was that was playing mentor to the servant, Tyson decided that it was time to find out.

Straightening up, the thief cast his face into the shadows by drawing up his hood. With his hands folded within the material, there was no feature exposed that would be able to provide an identity to the man shrouded within. Smiling slightly at the imposing figure that he presented, Tyson kicked the door open, determined to make a dramatic entrance. Pausing in the doorway, he caught the sight of a bent back, followed by a shock of white hair at the far end of the room. As the light was cut off, Gaius stretched up again and turned towards the door, thinking that Merlin was up to something else and had already returned. The sight there made him freeze in horror. The man standing there also froze, not expecting to see the face that accompanied the voice. It had been many years since he had heard it, providing him with an excuse not to recognise the tones, but there could be no forgetting that face.

"Tyson," Gaius breathed, his heart racing. Likewise, it had been many years since he had laid eyes on the figure that now stood so imposingly in his doorway, but it was one that would remain with him forever. Especially after what he had done.

"Gaius!" Tyson cried, unable to believe his eyes. He had thought the old physician had died long ago, but here he was, looking at him in that same accusing way. "What a pleasure to see you, old friend. How are you? We must catch up!"

"What do you want, Tyson?" Gaius barked accusingly. He was not fooled for an instance by the friendliness shown by the thief; he was painfully aware that it was all an act. His mind was racing. What did the man want? Did Merlin know?

"Now, now, old man." The friendliness had disappeared without a trace from Tyson's voice now. Although he still sounded like an angel, his voice was now cold and bitter. "We don't want any accidents to happen, do we? I only came to have a catch up. And meet my son."

"What do you want with him?" Gaius asked again, noting how much his voice shook. He had no concerns whatsoever about goading the man if it was just him in question. But when things came down to Merlin, Gaius was extremely protective. It showed just how big a place that the boy had gained in his heart. "Merlin won't want to see you. Not after what you did. In fact, he doesn't even know that you live."

"Oh, that's a bit harsh, Gaius." Striding into the room, Tyson's very presence seemed to be mocking Gaius, telling him that nothing he could do would allow him to win over the thief.

"I bet you are not aware that he has already seen me. We bumped into each other down by the stables. Although I think I might have scared him slightly; he sped off pretty quick after that."

"You were the one in Arthur's room, weren't you? It may have escaped your notice, but your son already doesn't trust you and that is before he even knows who you are. He knows you can use magic, so none of your tricks are going to work on him."

"But I don't need tricks to help me this time, Gaius." Tyson strode ever closer, becoming more menacing with each step. "You will help me get what I want. I have this very nasty boss who wants something and we believe that only Merlin can get it. You know how I don't like to be disappointed."

"You're after the casket, aren't you? You're the thieves in the forest. I see time has not changed you in the slightest, Tyson. Merlin will never help you; he knows that the casket is evil. Unlike his father, that boy is pure at heart. And if you think that I will help you after what you did to Hunith, you can think again."

"Come on, Gaius," Tyson argued. Although he didn't want to admit it, Gaius could see where Merlin got his stubbornness from. And it wasn't his mother that was for sure. "All I did was walk out on them. It could have been worse."

"You left her with a newborn baby that was already showing signs of powerful magic and just disappeared. It was only through charity of others that they didn't starve through those first few winters. Merlin had to work in the fields as soon as he was old enough, as the man in their house had disappeared long ago. You made him grow up too quickly."

"He seems to be alright to my eyes," Tyson responded heatedly, beginning to get angry with the old man. What did he know? Tyson had never wanted a family; he had had no say in the matter. His needs came in the form of silver and gold, not wives and children. "Things must be fine back in Ealdor, or why would Merlin be here, in a place where his very existence could get him killed?"

Gaius felt his own anger build up inside him. It had started to blossom since he had first seen the thief, but upon hearing him actually say Merlin's name for the first time sent the physician over the edge. Especially because he was talking about his own flesh and blood as if it was just another ant waiting to be crushed under his obviously stolen boots.

"Get out!" he hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously. Merlin was more his son than he would ever be to Tyson. Gaius knew that his arguments could be viewed as jealousy – the bond between physician and servant was a strong one – but he also knew that he had to protect the boy from this man.

"No," Tyson responded, his voice now dripping in hatred. His voice was his power. The effect it had on people was incredible. If he was angry, they could feel his anger through what he said. Likewise if he wanted someone to do something. The only problem was that his power was weak; people had a strong natural resistance to it. Those like his son wouldn't be affected at all, but Tyson had other methods to deal with that. Blackmail being one of them. "You are going to persuade Merlin that he wants to spend time with his father and encourage him to accompany me out of the castle tomorrow."

"Never," Gaius spat back, breathing heavily. He couldn't believe that this was happening. He had hoped when a distraught Hunith had told him what her husband had done, that he would never have to set eyes on him again, but here he was, trying to ruin his son's life for a second time.

"You will do it," Tyson threatened, looming over the physician menacingly. "For if you don't, I will kill the boy."

"How could you?" Gaius gasped, horror struck. Was there a single shred of humanity left in this man? How anyone could threaten to kill their own child, Gaius didn't know.

"Quite easily," Tyson responded silkily. "We need him, and I would prefer it if he came of his own free will. It will make things so much easier. Now, I know that he listens to you. Therefore, it is up to you, my old friend, to persuade him. If he comes himself, I promise that I will look after him. If I have to force him to leave, then once his purpose has been fulfilled then, well, he may not come back to you as quite the same Merlin, let's put it that way, shall we?"

Without giving Gaius a chance to respond, Tyson spun on his heel and marched out of the room, his head held high. Now all he had to do was wait. He was certain that Gaius wouldn't risk letting any harm come to the boy, and knew that he had to just wait for the right moment to present himself to Merlin properly, and all would be well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Again, thank you so much for all of you who have reviewed. With any luck, there will be another update before christmas, but just in case there isn't, have a very wonderful christmas to everyone! :)**

**For all of you who have seen the series 2 finale, you'll know that this buggered up the story slightly, but lets just pretend that it didn't happen for now so this can carry on! Although....how amazing was it?!?! :)**

Merlin stifled yet another yawn as he refilled the prince's cup again. Some of the frostiness of earlier seemed to have begun to melt. As Uther droned on and on, the relationship between the two of them seemed to have once again sprung into life. A quick glance, the rolling of the eyes, a sarcastic smirk. It didn't take much, but to the prince and his servant, it was as if nothing had ever happened between the two of them. Strangely, it was as soon as they left Arthur's chambers that the feeling of misplaced trust vanished, leaving them beginning to doubt whether it had ever happened. With his mind full of dangerous magical objects, Merlin couldn't help but wonder whether the man from earlier had done something to the room itself, rather than them. It would explain why the servant was once again completely at ease at being in the prince's company.

As he went to step back from the table again, a sharp kick on the ankle made him look at Arthur. The prince's face was suspiciously expressionless, but Merlin knew what that meant. Arthur had seen the yawn. And judging by the way that his nose was twitching, was trying not to do the same thing. Trying not to draw Uther's attention, Merlin responded by jabbing him in the arm with his free hand, before stepping back to the respectable distance expected of a servant before Arthur had time to retaliate.

Arthur let out a small snort of amusement, which he hastily turned into a cough when his father looked at him, eyebrows raised. The interruption seemed to be enough to make Uther realise how long he had been talking for, however, and he quite abruptly stood up, causing Arthur to jump to his feet as well.

"You will join me in the court tomorrow. There are several issues that need to be addressed."

"Yes, sire," Arthur responded dutifully, respectfully bowing his head to his father as he strode past. As soon as the king left the hall and the doors had shut behind him, Arthur collapsed back into his seat with a groan.

"Was he ever going to stop?" he moaned, burying his head with his hands. Now that the room was empty save for the two of them, Merlin perched on the edge of the chair standing next to Arthur's. Arthur said nothing; he already knew what his servant was going to do. They had the same routine after ever feast with Uther. First, let Merlin's feet stop pounding, and then deal with the formalities of getting Arthur changed and ready for bed. Arthur wished that he could simply send Merlin to bed and sort himself out, but knew that it would be far worse for the servant if Uther found out.

"I don't know," Merlin responded; pretend thoughtfulness echoing within his voice. "I think that he left you a few openings to amaze us all with your incredible knowledge, but you didn't take them. So we could all blame you for him talking so long."

"_Mer_lin!" Arthur cried, pretending to sound offended. "Don't forget that you haven't visited the stocks for a while. I don't want them to forget what it is like to be in your charming presence."

"Why thank you, my Lord," Merlin said with a smirk, climbing to his feet and giving Arthur a mock bow. Arthur shook his head, bemused at his servant's antics, and also climbed to his feet. Merlin certainly knew how to take his mind off the matters concerning his father.

"Come on, you idiot, let's go."

Merlin followed Arthur out of the hall, only just slipping through the doors in time before the guards shut them again. It seemed to have turned into something of a game, how late could Merlin leave it before he could no longer fit through the gap. It did help that he was so skinny; it meant that he could leave it at least another couple of inches compared to someone of the same build as Arthur.

The castle was in darkness, everyone else having the sense to retire hours ago. Whilst it showed just how long the two of them had been stuck listening to Uther, it did mean that Merlin could walk side by side with Arthur, rather than having to hang back at the required distance.

"Sire?" Merlin said tentatively, wondering how this was going to be taken. He desperately wanted to apologise to Arthur about what had happened earlier, to stop whatever was happening before it got even worse.

"Hmm?" Arthur murmured sleepily. "What?"

"You know earlier? Well, I…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for my attitude. I didn't mean anything I said, nor the way in which I said it."

"Same. I'm sorry for being so sharp with you about that man, Merlin, he obviously scared you. He just crawled under my skin a bit and I can't say that I trust him in the slightest. His voice seemed to have something magical about it. I want you to stay away from him."

"With pleasure!" Merlin responded with feeling. His heart felt lighter than it had done for hours, all day in fact. The feeling of being followed had resided considerably, although the sense of danger still lingered, but things were once again back in their place with the prince.

The two of them fell into companionable silence for the rest of the journey, contentment settling into both the way snow settles onto the ground. Reaching Arthur's door, Merlin pushed it open, holding it for the prince to walk through. There were certain things that had become almost a second nature to the warlock: he didn't even realise that he did it anymore.

Crossing over into the room himself, Merlin felt the strangest of sensations. It was as if something was eating away at his new happiness, leaving sparks of irritation in its wake. He had only been in the room for seconds at the most, but already he felt a great deal of annoyance spiralling out of him in Arthur's direction. Unbidden, his mind sprung back to his previous thoughts concerning magic. It seemed that he had been right: it was the room that was under the enchantment. Seeing Arthur's face begin to cloud over, Merlin decided that it was about time that he reacted. Squeezing his eyes shut so that the prince wouldn't see the obvious flash of gold, Merlin muttered a spell almost silently under his breath. Instantly, his own feelings returned, rather than ones that had been placed within him by the mysterious figure. Feeling a lot more in control, Merlin repeated the spell, changing the wording ever so silently. A sudden explosion of breath that Arthur had clearly been holding indicated to the warlock that the spell had worked on the prince, too. There would be no more quarrels tonight, and with any luck, the spell on the room would have worn off by the time morning came. If not, well then, that bridge would just have to be crossed when they came to it.

"Come on then," Arthur grumbled, shrugging his jacket off. "Let's go this over and done with. Get the fire burning, would you, Merlin?"

Merlin set about busying himself with his task, but his attention was elsewhere. The spell needed a lot more concentration than he had originally anticipated to keep the feelings neutral, but the warlock was determined not to slip. He didn't want to give Arthur the suspicion that magic was being used in his very room if their emotions changed yet again. He only hoped that he put his earlier annoyance down to tiredness and thought nothing else of it.

The two boys were so used to their nighttime routine that it was complete within a matter of moments. Crashing into his bed with a long sigh, Arthur relaxed into the warmth.

"Good night, sire," Merlin called as he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. A sleepy call followed him out, causing him to smile softly as he turned from the door.

Yawning loudly, Merlin let his feet carry him along the familiar path back to Gaius's. The day had not only been a particularly long one, but a strange one as well, even by Camelot's standards. When his feet came to a natural stop, Merlin blinked sleepily, surprised to see himself facing the wood of the door leading to the physician's chambers. With any luck, Gaius would be asleep. Merlin wasn't sure if he was feeling up to a lecture on the importance of sleep at this late hour. Besides, it wasn't as if it was his fault. He couldn't exactly walk out on both Arthur and the king, saying that his mentor had sent him to bed. He really didn't want to think what the answer to that action would be.


	7. Chapter 7

**Yah, just in time for Christmas! Have a wonderful Christmas everyone! And onto the next chapter:**

Pushing the door open slowly, Merlin held his breath as he heard the normal creak groan out into the night. Something needed to be done about that door that much was for certain. Yet Gaius seemed to be reluctant to let his charge use his magic to make his chambers more comfortable. Sometimes, Merlin felt like he didn't understand the physician at all.

Slipping through the door so he would not have to open it any further, Merlin stopped dead. He couldn't see Gaius, but sitting in the middle of the physician's chambers, was the mysterious man. Feeling anxiety build up inside him, Merlin narrowed his eyes at the stranger.

"Where's Gaius?" he asked, his voice low and threatening. The stranger merely smiled at him and didn't answer. He didn't have too, for someone else beat him to it.

"I'm just here, Merlin," Gaius stepped out of the shadows behind the door, causing the young warlock to jump. "You're late home." Merlin turned to look at him, suspicion still lingering in his eyes. Gaius's voice sounded far too neutral, as if he was desperately trying to hide something. His eyes betrayed him, however, for they kept flickering towards the stranger, the contempt all too obvious. With his back to the stranger, Merlin frowned questioningly at the physician, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Aren't you going to introduce me, Gaius?" the stranger called, his voice dripping like honey. Unconsciously, Merlin let his magic fill him up, acting as a natural defence against the stranger. He was worried that the magical voice would have an affect on Gaius, but the look that the physician threw the man calmed any worries. Loathing cut like a knife through the air, the tension building as the two men stared at each other. His senses tingling, Merlin couldn't help but feel apprehensive. Something was going on, yet no one seemed to be in any hurry to enlighten the warlock.

"Of course," Gaius responded, a forced smile briefly flickering over his aged face. None of the normal warmth of Gaius's smile was present, however, and the sparkle that danced within his eyes remained truly out. Turning to the warlock, Gaius briefly shut his eyes, hating himself for what he was about to do. But he had no choice, not if he wanted to protect the boy who was standing so defensively in front of him. With any luck, Merlin would listen to his head rather than his heart on this matter, but somehow Gaius doubted it. He wasn't that sort of boy.

"Merlin, this is Tyson. He is…" his voice trailing off, Gaius sent Tyson a look of despair. The man raised his eyebrows expectantly, sliding his hand subtly over the edge of the knife that he was wearing at his belt. Gaius swallowed, knowing that there was nothing that he could do.

"He is your father."

Stunned silence followed Gaius's announcement. Merlin looked at him in shock, his emotions easy to read on his face. Painfully slowly, he turned to face Tyson.

"My…father?" he asked hesitantly, not knowing what to make of the news. His mind was racing. This was the man that had been following him all day, providing the sense of danger. But maybe that was why he had been looking for him. And hadn't he told Arthur that he was searching for someone 'of great importance to him'? Perhaps it wasn't him providing the sense of danger after all. Maybe it was something else, just happened to coincide with this man.

"Son," Tyson rose with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Stretching his arms out, he strode forward and embraced Merlin strongly. Whether or not he noticed the gesture was not returned, Gaius couldn't have said. Locking eyes with the thief, the smugness shone out like a beacon and Gaius glanced away, disgusted. It didn't seem right that Tyson was winning so far. Merlin pulled away relatively quickly, his eyes searching Tyson's face. He really didn't know what to make of this. Subtly was not his strongest point, yet Merlin had to start somewhere.

"Why are you here?" Behind him, it was Gaius's turn to look smugly at Tyson. He was hoping that Merlin was being more than curious, and strongly hoped that his suspicions about the man earlier were winning through.

"I heard rumours," Tyson responded silkily, his voice too used to telling lies to react these days. "That you were alive and well. I had to see if the rumours were true or not."

"What do you mean, alive and well?" Merlin asked, sounding confused. Gaius sighed softly to himself, knowing what Tyson was up to. Merlin was won over too easily; all Tyson needed to do was play to his sensitive nature.

"Do you not know? There was a fire when you were a baby. By the time I was able to reach the house, both you and your mother had disappeared. I searched for days, but found no trace of either of you. I…feared I had lost you both that day."

Tyson shot Gaius a look of triumphant. His voice was indeed his power over Merlin, but not in the usual way. The lies came easily, making Tyson sound like he had genuinely been a father in mourning, rather than a scoundrel who had abandoned his family.

"I don't remember any of that," Merlin responded, but his voice was softer than before: some of the suspicion had vanished. Gaius felt his heart break. Merlin believed him. Of course he did – the boy needed a father and here he was. Why wouldn't Merlin believe him, despite his earlier doubts? He was far too trusting.

"Why would you?" Tyson said with a small laugh. "You were only a few months old."

"So, you didn't even know that I was alive?" Merlin asked hesitantly, clearly beginning to believe the thief.

"Of course not, my boy! I could only hope and pray that your extraordinary gifts were enough to help you. And now here I find you, alive and well. It gladdens my heart more than words can express!"

"Excuse me," Gaius cut in rather suddenly, "I have duties I must attend to." Avoiding Merlin's puzzled glance, Gaius strode from the room, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He had lost. He had lost Merlin, meaning that he had lost everything. He could tell just by the way the boy's hands had loosened by his side that he was letting his guard down, believing everything that the thief had told him. And if he was honest, Gaius couldn't blame him. Despite his best efforts, who could play the father figure better than the father? What chance did Gaius, the man who had never known real fatherhood, have? None when someone like Tyson was around. Gaius had nothing to offer that Tyson couldn't multiple by ten, apart from the love burning in his heart for the young warlock.


	8. Chapter 8

**I know, i know, i'm a day late with updating, i'm sorry! I don't know what is is with these chapters, but they seem to be getting shorter and shorter! Sorry about that, they should start to lengethen before long!**

**As usual, thanks to all of those of you who took the time to let me know what you thought, i really appreaciate it! Happy new year, everyone!**

Merlin frowned at the shut door, slightly worried by Gaius's sudden departure. The old physician seemed deeply troubled, making Merlin sure that he was definitely hiding something. But what could possibly be wrong? His father was here! Little did Merlin know that the physician's very fears were coming true, that he was indeed falling for the lies being spun around him. He had dreamt about the man standing in front of him for years, not knowing anything about him, for his mother had refused to say anything on the matter. And yet here he was, seemingly delighted that he had found his son. The threat that he had felt throughout the whole day now seemed nothing more than a flicker in the back of his mind. Merlin had no desire to let the overwhelming thoughts circulate; he wanted to enjoy the fact that his father was here.

"My…gifts?" Merlin questioned suddenly, an unpleasant feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. Exactly how much did this man know about him? Tyson shot Merlin a charming smile; hiding the contempt he felt building up for the boy. Playing the doting father was going to be harder than he thought – Merlin was the exact opposite to him: kind, considerate, loving – everything that Tyson deemed to be weak, pathetic. It also made Merlin annoyingly loyal, meaning that even now, Tyson knew that he would have to be very careful in order to persuade him to leave the safety of Camelot.

"Come now, Merlin. The rattle flying around your head when you were but a week old gave things away. Fear not, my son, your secret is safe with me. I myself have some limited magic, although nothing as magnificent as yours."

Merlin blushed slightly and studied his boots, secretly more pleased with the compliment that he would let on. Barely anyone complimented him on his skills; it was something that he had not yet become accustomed to. Seeing the reddening, Tyson grinned. So he did have a weakness after all…

"Actually, Merlin, there was something that I wanted to ask you." Making his voice sound hesitant, unsure, Tyson realised that he did not have to pretend this time. He had indeed heard rumours about Merlin, and had heard enough to not want to get on the wrong side of him. He had to play this part cautiously. "I can't stay here; I have not the skill to hide my magic the way you have yours. I had to risk it to see if you were indeed alive, but now I fear I must leave. If only…no, that would be asking too much."

"What?" Merlin asked, playing straight into the thief's arms. "What is it? Tell me, please."

"I only wondered if, by the merest possibility, that you wanted to come with me? See the world, not have to hide who you are. Of course, you could return here to Camelot whenever you wished, see those that you love at any time. But no, I ask too much. I have only just come into your life. It was wrong of me to ask. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," Merlin responded, smiling. He really looked like his mother when he smiled – his eyes lit up the same way. Tyson glanced away, half afraid that he would see Hunith glaring back at him. Mistaking his glance for uncertainty, Merlin crossed the space between them.

"I would love to come with you. I always dreamed about who my father was. To be given the opportunity to get to know you is more than I could have ever wished. Oh, but…"

"But?" Tyson queried, readying himself to use force if necessary. He had no idea what this 'but' could be, and was slightly anxious. He hastily put his hands in the pockets of his coat, determined to hide the sweaty palms. He couldn't believe that the plan had gone accordingly so far, and was ready for things to go wrong on him at any stage now.

"Arthur," Merlin sighed, glancing towards the doorway as he did. Instantly, Tyson understood. Merlin couldn't go anywhere without his master's permission. Hating himself for sympathising with the boy, Tyson bit the inside of his cheek, determined to keep him focused.

"The prince? Everything I've heard about him means that he seems to be an understanding type of man. Would he not grant you this one boon? Surely, after everything that you have done for him?"

"He doesn't know the half of it," Merlin muttered, his eyes betraying his decision before his voice. "I'll ask him. But however much I may want to come, it might not be possible. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have to ask you this. I should have been in your life for years beforehand, guiding you through the troubled times."

"Hey, you're here now. That's all that matters. I'll ask him in the morning."

"Um, Merlin? It is morning."

"What?" Merlin cried, exasperated. Indeed, the first rays of light were beginning to peak over the horizon, indicating a start to another day. What with the late night because of the feast with Uther, then all that had happened ever since, time had slipped away the way sand slipped through fingers. With the first light of day also came Merlin's responsibilities, meaning that if he didn't hurry, he would be late for work. Calling over his shoulder for Tyson to explain to Gaius if he returned what the situation was, Merlin sped out of the door. He hadn't once looked back at Tyson, so he was ignorant to the satisfied smirk playing across the thief's face, almost in a leering way.

Halfway to Arthur's chambers, the warlock stopped dead, a sudden thought erupting in his mind. Gaius. Something was definitely wrong with the physician; Merlin couldn't believe that he hadn't given it enough thought before. What kind of duties could he possibly have to carry out, _in the middle of the night?_ Sometimes, when there was an illness rampaging through the castle, he had been found to be wandering at odd hours. But as far as Merlin knew, nothing like that was occurring now. It was almost as if he couldn't bear being in the same room as Tyson. Now he began to dwell on it, Merlin could picture the look of loathing that the physician had sent the other man. The feeling of unease starting to creep back in, Merlin continued walking, slowly this time, lost in troubled thoughts.


	9. Chapter 9

**I know, i know, i'm lating updating! I'm sorry!!**

**PirateMoose, this chapter is dedicated to you- the first of many about your favourite person!**

Unbeknownst to the concerned warlock, the object of his thoughts was standing just beyond the door. Lost in the shadows of the disappearing night, Gaius hadn't gone far. Anxious to know what lies Tyson was now spinning, he had remained within earshot, needing to know what damage had been caused, damage that needed to now be repaired. He had never met anyone who could lie as convincingly as the thief, nor someone who would accept it as readily as Merlin. Not wanting to have to face the thief on his own, Gaius started following Merlin, keeping his distance from the boy. Hating himself for not having the courage to confront Merlin, he quickly turned down a different route at the first opportunity.

Gaius had been living in this castle for long enough to know his way around like the back of his hand. His duties often had him scurrying to the farthest part of the castle, and in a situation like this, it suited him perfectly. It meant that he knew the parts of the castle that would be teeming with activity at dawn, and more importantly, the parts that would be almost silent. His feet treading a path that was more than familiar to him, Gaius let himself be lead to a part of the castle that held many happy memories for him. Apart from his own chambers, the east wing of the castle was where Gaius felt more at home than anywhere else. The old physician simply did not know what to do. Merlin may have accepted Tyson, but Gaius knew that if he were to say anything, then the warlock would keep his guard up. Yet, despite all the risks he encouraged Merlin to take, he did not have the guts to say anything himself. He knew only too well that Tyson was as quick with his knife as he was with his tongue, and couldn't find it within himself to risk it. Merlin meant too much to him.

"Gaius?" A soft voice bought Gaius from his thoughts. Even considering the darkness of the dilemma that he found himself in, Gaius could not help but smile at the sound of the voice. Looking up from his feet, his gaze brushed across the figure in front of him, just as beautiful as he remembered.

"My Lady." Bowing his head respectfully, Gaius was startled when he felt the soft fingers slowly tip his chin back up.

"Come now, my friend. There is no need for formalities. We have known each other far too long for that." Lady Elizabeth studied her friend closely. The two had been through a lot together. Lovers when they were young; fate had drawn the two of them apart, only to reunite them years later. To Gaius's heartbreak, her father had married her off to a wealthy nobleman in that time. Although it had taken him some time, Gaius had accepted it now. Her husband was a respectful man, and the two obviously had a close relationship. Luckily, Elizabeth still viewed her old flame as one of her closest friends, and the two of them managed to still enjoy almost the same closeness as they had when they were youngsters searching for adventure and wealth.

Observing the physician closely, Elizabeth was shocked to see him looking drawn and tense. His posture was so normally relaxed; it took a lot to get the man worked up. But yet, watching him now, something had managed too. The wrinkles across the bridge of his nose were a normal telltale sign of when something had got him upset and his eyes burnt with feelings that the Lady could not identify, it was like a sea of emotions, raging and fierce.

"What is troubling you, my dear friend? You look lost."

Gaius swallowed hard against the lump in his throat that had suddenly sprung up. He knew that he could trust Elizabeth, and perhaps it would make his own path clearer if he confided in someone. He knew that she was aware of how he felt about Merlin, that she would understand. But how to begin?

"Have you ever thought that you had your whole world right there in front of you? That everything would be fine as long as this one person was safe, that you could weather any storm?"

"You know that I have," Elizabeth responded softly, anxious to try and help her troubled friend. It pained her to see him in this much distress, but she was unsure of where the conversation was heading. She knew that he was fully aware that she had felt like that once, many years ago when she was little more than a girl. After all, that whole world was once again standing in front of her.

"Gaius, what is this about?"

Gaius looked slowly up at his friend, feeling the tears begin to swim. Brushing them away angrily, he relented. Elizabeth had always had a way of making him open up, even when he didn't want to. It appeared that even after all of these years, she was still capable of making him do so.

"Tyson has returned," he said bluntly. The reaction was almost immediate. Elizabeth had been around during the times when the thief walked out on his home, his family, and had endured numerous hours of calming a fuming Gaius. She knew what his return could mean to the young charge in Gaius's care, what it could mean to the physician.

"What does he want?" she asked, sounding diplomatic. That was a quality which had emerged with her marriage. Elizabeth now knew how to handle any situation thrown at her with poise and decorum, something that Gaius could only marvel at.

"Merlin. He wants to take the boy with him, no doubt to help him on some scheme. I can't even tell him what his father is really like, for Tyson threatened to kill him if I breathe a word about his true intentions. I'm about to lose him, Beth, and there is nothing that I can do."

"There is always something." Patting him reassuringly on the arm, Elizabeth frowned in concern. This was indeed bad news. However, the Lady was a quick thinker, and knew that there was something that Gaius was keeping from her. She, too, had heard the rumours about the band of thieves in the forest, the ones who were after a certain casket. She knew the legends that surrounded it, the whispers about what it took to break through the defences guarding the mystical object. The Lady was also aware that there was something different about the young boy living with her old friend. The change in Gaius had been all too apparent since he had arrived in Camelot. It was a good change; it was nice to see him happy after all of these years of being on his own. This made her only more determined to help resolve this situation. She wasn't going to let him lose this happiness now. He deserved more than that.

"I can ask my John to speak to the king. Have him thrown out regarding suspicious behaviour without it ever linking back to you. That way, he has no reason to harm the boy and he will be safe."

"I fear it is too late for that. Merlin is asking Arthur this morning if he can accompany Tyson out of the castle. To be honest, Arthur doesn't have a good enough reason to say no. There is nothing that anyone can do."

With a short nod of his head, Gaius walked away. He didn't mean to be so abrupt, but knew that he couldn't stay there any longer. He was worried that if Elizabeth pried any more, he would end up revealing secrets that were best kept hidden. Whilst he trusted her, her husband had yet to win his respect, meaning that he couldn't risk anything. It was bad enough having Tyson threaten to kill Merlin, but to have the king find out about his gifts would spell certain death. No, this was something that he had to do on his own.

With his head bent, Gaius walked quickly, not caring where he was going. He had to get away from the castle; he was too much of a coward to run the risk of bumping into Merlin. If anyone were to ask, then he would say that he had been out collecting supplies; an excuse that he knew would not be questioned. Hating himself for not standing up to Tyson more, for not protecting Merlin, Gaius collected his horse from the stables and set out, determined to leave the feeling of imprisonment behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Once again, thank you so much for all of the lovely reviews people have been posting, it means a lot to me!**

**So, time for the big question-will Arthur let him go or not?**

Unaware of his mentor's flight, Merlin was busy battling with his own conscience. He had promised Tyson that he would speak to Arthur about accompanying him out of the castle – something that he was almost desperate to do. He still couldn't quite believe that his father was here, wanting the opportunity to get to know his son. On the other hand, his main loyalties still lay with Arthur; he was his prince, his master, his friend. And he had promised that he would stay away with from Tyson, although that was before he knew the truth. Even so, Merlin knew that he would have to be extremely cautious when approaching the matter with the prince. How should he tell him that he wanted to spend some time with the very person that he had been ordered to stay away from? Instinct that had nothing to do with magic warned him that Arthur might not take it too well.

Slipping through the doors almost silently, Merlin couldn't help but smile at the sight. However anxious he was about the upcoming conversation, it was still a sweet sight to see the Arthur was exactly where he had been left, spread fully out across the bed, all the cares and worries gone. Little did Merlin know that this was to be his undoing. Letting his guard down completely, Merlin didn't feel another presence arrive as he crossed the room to draw back the curtains. He didn't sense the feeling of unease slip menacingly into the room like a shadow as he gently shook Arthur awake. Neither did he notice how his feelings of happiness were slowly being consumed, nor the small chuckle from outside the door.

*

Arthur slowly peeled his eyes open when he felt his servant's hand gently shake him. Sitting up groggily, the prince couldn't believe that it was morning already; it only felt a matter of moments since he had finally fallen into bed. As he swung his legs out from under the sheets, Arthur couldn't help but feel a small amount of resentment towards Merlin. Why did he have to wake him up so early, every day? Surely even a prince was allowed a lie in now and again? Before he could make a retort at his servant, however, Arthur took a proper look at the boy. If he thought that he was tired, Merlin didn't look like he had slept at all. Huge black circles shadowed his eyes, making the rest of his skin look pale in comparison. His eyes seemed to be telling hundreds of stories. At a first glance, they were the look of someone who was deeply annoyed, but yet, when studied more closely, there seemed to be an underlying sense of both anxiety and happiness. Shaking his head, Arthur tried to clear his mind. He would never know what went through Merlin's head. Nor, quite frankly, did he want to know, especially not at this time in the morning.

"I wore that the other day," the prince grumbled as he stood up, sparing only a glance at the outfit that Merlin had carefully selected.

"No, the one you're thinking of is the other jacket. You haven't worn this for ages," Merlin responded, his annoyance coming through. Arthur sounded so spoilt when he moaned like this.

"Either way, I'm not wearing it now. You've creased it." Arthur wasn't sure why he felt so angry with his servant. Merlin had chosen his outfit for almost a year now, selecting exactly the right things every time. But for some reason that he could not fathom, Arthur had a deep sense that he _really _didn't want to wear today's clothes.

"Fine!" Merlin snapped, flinging the clothes back into the vast wardrobe. "You pick if you're going to be so stubborn about it."

Arthur stared at him in shock; Merlin never spoke to him like this, even if they were bickering. Striding around the prince, Merlin set about making the bed, taking none of his usual care. As the pillows were pummelled with far more force than necessary, Arthur grabbed the nearest set of clothes within his reach and strode around his screen to change. He didn't want the other boy's help if that was the sort of mood he was in. In fact, Arthur wasn't sure that he wanted Merlin's company at all, although if pressed, he would not be able to provide a reason why…

As soon as Arthur disappeared from his sight, Merlin paused in what he was doing. Staring at the almost mangled pillow in his hands, the warlock frowned. Why had he snapped at the prince like that? Merlin knew better than anyone that Arthur was not a morning person, especially if he hadn't received a good night sleep. But even then, the servant could not work out what had got him so worked up. Considering the news he was still dying to share, Merlin felt a surge of different emotions battle around him, each trying to take control, but being rejected by the persistent feeling of annoyance.

Fully dressed, Arthur reappeared just as Merlin finished making the bed. The two of them stared at each other warily, both wondering what on earth was going on, yet not wanting to be the one who first voiced their thoughts. Merlin couldn't help but notice smugly that the clothes Arthur had grabbed in his flurry were the very ones that he had picked out originally. Why the prince had made such a fuss was even more of a mystery now.

Deciding that now would be a good a time as any, Merlin made up his mind. He was going to tell Arthur about Tyson and ask for permission to leave with his father. Maybe the two of them had just been around each other for too long, and needed a break, and that this whole situation was really just perfect timing?

"Sire? Do you remember the creepy man from yesterday?"

"What about him?" Arthur asked, tying a scabbard to his belt, ready for the morning training session with his knights.

"Well, I kind of ran into him again. And before you say anything, no I didn't disobey you. He was waiting for me in Gaius's chambers and I couldn't exactly avoid him."

"What did he want?" Arthur responded, trying but failing to keep the icy tone from his voice. Once more, the prince didn't know what he was so annoyed about. That someone wanted to spend time with Merlin and not with him? That Merlin was obviously important enough to this man that he had tracked the servant down in the middle of the night?

"For me to leave with him for the forest this very morning." Merlin gabbled his sentence as quickly as he could, holding his breath for Arthur's reaction. The prince raised his chin, his face expressionless. This didn't look good. If he were angry, then Merlin would be able to tell. And if he were pleased, then likewise. But with this expression, it could mean absolutely anything.

"For _you _to leave with _him_? Merlin, why on earth would he pick you, in the middle of the night, no less, to accompany him out of Camelot?"

"Maybe some people actually appreciate me for who I am, not just whether or not their armour is polished," Merlin retorted heatedly. Biting his lip in anxiety whilst waiting for Arthur's reaction, the young warlock realised that he hadn't given Arthur a decent enough argument to let him go. Wanting this more than anything, Merlin swallowed his pride.

"I'm sorry, sire. This man, Tyson, has picked me, well, because…you see, he is my father. He thought that I died long ago, but found out that I was, in fact, still alive. Business has to take him out of the city immediately, and he asked if I wanted to accompany him, use the time to get to know him. But I told him that first of all I had to talk to you…" His voice trailing off, failing to hide the hope echoing within his words, Merlin watched Arthur carefully. The prince didn't look happy. No, that was an understatement. He looked down right irritated.

"So you think that you can come in here and insult me, and then expect me to grant you a favour and let you disappear off with some stranger that, may I remind you, _Mer_lin, had you terrified yesterday. And I'm guessing that you don't want me to tell my father either."

"Arthur, come on, you know that I didn't mean it like that. Besides, have I not just apologised?"

"It's sire to you, _Mer_lin. Or 'My Lord'. You know, for a servant, you really ask too much. If you had any other master, then you would have been sacked long ago."

"Or perhaps they would understand what this means to me, rather than being such a prat the whole time."

The temperature of the room plummeted as Arthur slowly turned to look at Merlin. The tension could have been cut with a knife as the two boys glared at each other. Behind the door, a figure stood in the shadows, a sly grin spreading slowly across his face. His spell always worked well, but never to this extent before. It was obvious that there had already been some underlying tension between the two of them, for Tyson knew that his magic wasn't strong enough to cause this sort of affect, especially not with Merlin's natural resistance to him.

Merlin audibly swallowed as Arthur simply looked at him. This time, the servant could read his face, and knew that he had overstepped the mark. But unlike earlier, Merlin was not prepared to swallow his pride this time, not with the prince acting like such an arrogant prat. He had truly hoped that Arthur would understand. He knew how much the prince wanted to be able to have a good relationship with Uther, and thought that it was considerably unfair to deny his servant the opportunity of getting to know his own father.

"So, you want to go with this man?" Arthur began slowly, the tone of his voice making Merlin flinch. It was deadly quiet, something Merlin knew meant far more danger than if he had been shouting. "Well, off you go, then. But, Merlin, don't expect to come back again. If you leave Camelot with him, you are leaving Camelot for good. Now, get out of my sight!"

"Arthur –"

"Go!"

As Arthur pointedly looked out of the window in the opposite direction, Merlin nodded softly to himself, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. This was the very thing that he had been dreading, being forced to choose between his father and his friend. But with things the way that they were with the prince, maybe it was for the best that he left.

Walking slowly out of the room, Merlin carefully closed the doors behind him, determined not to let Arthur see him lose his composure. Not knowing that he had an audience, he dropped the act as soon as the door was shut. Drawing his fist back, Merlin punched the wall as hard as he could, feeling the pain lance up his arm. He didn't care though. It was only part of what he wanted to do to vent out his feelings for the prince. He had to be so bloody stubborn, the _whole _time. In a moment of pure annoyance, Merlin decided. He wasn't going to stand for Arthur and his prat-ish-ness any longer. This time, Merlin was going to do something for himself for once. Full of a determination that didn't quite reach his heart, the warlock set off back to Gaius's chambers to collect his belongings and inform his father that he would indeed be travelling with him, even if it did mean not coming back to Camelot.


	11. Chapter 11

**Wow, over 100 reviews-thank you so much!**

**Finally, this chapter is a bit longer! It has quite a few things occuring from different people's pov, so hope it's not too confusing!**

Standing in the shadows, Tyson had seen the entire performance. The carefully composed posture as he left the prince's chambers, the frustration as he lashed out, the squaring of the shoulders as Merlin made his decision. Something stirred deep within Tyson, something that felt unnervingly like respect. He didn't even respect his boss, knowing him to be a complete and utter tyrant. Pulling himself together, Tyson slipped from the shadows and ran swiftly, his feet making no sound as he tried to beat his son back to the physician's chambers.

*

Far across the castle, the Lady Morgana stirred in her sleep. Visions plagued her dreams. Flickering in quick succession, Morgana witnessed Arthur throwing Merlin out of his room. She saw the young servant leave the castle in the presence of another man that she didn't know. Instinct, however, was screaming at her, telling her that every inch of this man was evil.

Then the dream changed. The destination was no longer the castle, but deep within the forest, outside of a cave. Merlin was there; looking horrified and scared at the same time, staring at the same man in something close to desperation. Someone was just out of then line of her sight, but Morgana was almost certain that was the cause of Merlin's desperation. The last vision that Morgana saw before the scream awoke her was that of Merlin dropping to the floor, writhing in agony as Arthur sped onto the scene, looking murderous.

Reaching out blindly, Morgana found the waiting arms and buried herself into Gwen's shoulder, sobbing her heart out. Gwen knew by now not to ask when Morgana was like this: the only person that she would talk to about the dreams was Gaius. All the faithful maid could do was comfort her friend, and try to lull her back to sleep. Feeling the tremors racking Morgana's slim frame slowly begin to subside, Gwen stroked her hair comfortingly, muttering soft condolences as she did so.

*

Merlin angrily stuffed as many clothes as he could into his small bag. Tyson had seemed delighted at Merlin's decision, something that the warlock himself wasn't so certain about. Not wanting to show his indecisiveness in front of the man he was so anxious to impress, Merlin had stormed straight into his room, and had begun to pack. Now the room was almost bare; the only thing remaining was a small coloured rock, balancing on the windowsill. Gaius had given it to him for his birthday the year before, something that Merlin had never been able to express his gratitude for in words – it meant too much to him.

Plucking it from its resting place, Merlin bounced it on the palm of his hand, staring into the depths of the colours swirling within. Gaius had claimed that the rock reminded him of Merlin, full of surprises, yet still with a certainty that could not be denied. Even now, Merlin didn't know what he had meant by that. Tucking it into the top of his bag, Merlin fully realised what he was doing.

He wasn't accompanying his father for the chance to get to know him. No, he was running away. Away from his friends, his home, away from someone who had been there for him when it was needed the most. And all because he was annoyed with Arthur. What would Gwen say when she found out? That he always had the choice? Who would let Gaius know, for the physician had not been anywhere around the chambers? Would Arthur stay angry at him?

The thoughts whirling around his head, Merlin took the stone back out from his bag. Sighing deeply, he tucked it away again, but this time, instead of going into the depths of his bag to be forgotten, Merlin instead placed the pebble in his top pocket, allowing the smoothness of the stone to calm his racing heart. A sudden knock on his door made Merlin snap out of his daze. Wiping the back of his hand furiously over his suddenly misty eyes, Merlin shouldered his bag and opened the door, looking into his father's smiling face. Luckily for Tyson, Merlin was too preoccupied with looking properly into his eyes to see the deceit spiralling within them.

Hiding what was raging inside of him, Tyson held out his hand invitingly to the warlock, taking his bag from him. The sooner he got back to the forest, the better; he was getting far too emotional. Even seeing how watery his son's eyes were and how he was desperately trying to hide it was stirring something that felt worryingly like sympathy within him.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, Tyson exited the physician's chambers, for what he hoped would be the last time. Pausing outside the door, Tyson felt a sense of growing excitement. They were returning to the forest, meaning that all of his dreams of having the casket within his possession were coming ever closer. And if the boy proved up to the challenge, well, then, his boss was sure to want to reward Tyson for his efforts. And to compensate the fact he was sacrificing his own son. Not that that really mattered to the thief, but it was a good excuse to ask for an added bonus.

Taking one last long look around the room, Merlin slowly followed Tyson out, shutting the door softly behind him. Letting out all of his emotions in one explosive breath, the warlock squared his shoulders, determined to see this through. This was his chance to live as who he was, rather than always trying to hide his powers. And even better, there would be no more orders to follow, no more annoying prat wanting his armour polished. No more annoying prat who was the closest thing to a brother that Merlin had, no more undeniable friendship. Pushing the thoughts angrily to the back of his mind, Merlin followed his father down the hallway, barely noticing that they were heading out towards the stables, the very place where Merlin had first set eyes on the man that had scared him so badly.

Arthur stood glaring out of his window at nothing in particular. It was quite lucky that nothing was the subject of his penetrating gaze, for it surely would have withered and crumbled where it stood. It wasn't hard to guess what, or more importantly, _who_, was the cause of his anger. He couldn't believe Merlin. After all the two of them had gone through, the servant was still quite happy to just walk out on his master, on his friend.

Arthur was only just beginning to realise what the boy meant to him, that he was so much more than a servant. He was the first real friend that the prince had ever had. And he had left. Growling in frustration, the furious prince spun on his heel and strode into the room, grabbing his sword from the table where it had been thrown in a fit of rage. Maybe he should go and take his frustration out on the knights; they needed a good practice, anyway.

Before he could reach his door, however, it was flung open and a hurricane that was soon revealed to be a tearful Morgana came spinning into his room. Watching her with his eyebrows raised, Arthur waited until she had come to a stop before going to address her. He wasn't quick enough, however; the king's ward opened her mouth before him.

"Where's Merlin?" she cried, true anguish filling her voice. "He can't leave, Arthur, you can't let him!"

"I can and I have," Arthur responded coldly, not wanting to talk about the servant. "He chose to leave with a complete stranger, so I let him. Anyway, how do you know he is gone?"

Staring at him for a few horrified seconds, Morgana didn't register the question. Gone? Merlin couldn't be gone; it was far too dangerous for him. And if Arthur hadn't gone with him, then who was to save him from her dream?

"I…your argument was loud enough for the entire castle to hear." Saying the first thing that came into her head, Morgana watched the figure in front of her carefully. Luckily for her, his shoulders slumped in defeat, giving her the chance to get away with what she had just said. In fact, she had no idea if the two of them had even had an argument, but knowing their relationship with each other, thought it was the more likely than not.

"Really? You heard?" Arthur asked quietly. For the first time since the argument, he felt his anger ebbing away, replaced with a deep sadness. Merlin had really gone.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, I know how much he meant to you. Where has he gone?" Throwing the question in as innocently as she could, Morgana tried to piece together the mystery. Every time she thought about this mysterious man that Arthur had mentioned, she felt shivers shoot down her spine, yet she had no idea who he was. The one thing that the fiery young woman was almost sure of, however, was that he was bad news and posed a far greater threat to Merlin than either of them seemed to have realised.

"I neither know, nor care," Arthur snapped, his anger returning in a flicker. It wasn't his job to check up on servants, _after _they had walked out. No, Merlin was on his own now.

"If you don't care, then why are you so worked up?" Morgana questioned softly, knowing that Arthur's anger was only a front to his hurt.

Glaring at her with a look that would strike fear into the hearts of his bravest knights, Arthur found it extremely irritating that she seemed to have developed the skill not to quake at his murderous glare at all. In fact, she merely raised an elegant eyebrow rather pointedly, as if that illustrated her point. Realising that simply glaring wasn't going to be enough, Arthur opened his mouth.

"If I am worked up, it is nothing to do with Merlin. It's hardly my fault if he wanted to run off with someone that terrified the idiot beforehand. I simply told him not to bother coming back if he was going to act like that."

"You did what?" Morgana yelped, visibly shocked. Feeling uncertain by her extreme reaction, Arthur didn't say anything. He knew that Merlin and Morgana were friendly, probably more than their status' allowed, and that once Gwen found out, Morgana's life would be hell, but even so, her reaction seemed a little over the top.

Realising that she was leading herself towards unwanted questioning, Morgana changed tact quickly.

"You'll regret this, Arthur. You'll see sense and you'll regret it. Go after him."

"No."

Rolling her eyes, Morgana sighed. The prince could be so damn stubborn at times. It was no wonder that they ended up arguing, or why something like this had happened. If only Arthur would back down and admit that he was wrong once in a while, life would be a lot easier for everyone.

"And what if he never returns?" she pressed, knowing that Arthur would miss his servant more than he would ever admit. And if he didn't admit it, then everyone else would be at the mercy of his anger. "What if the last thing you ever said to Merlin was ordering him away? Could you live with that, Arthur Pendragon? Knowing that you pushed away the one person who could actually stand coping with you for more than five minutes?"

"Yeah right. That's why he left, because he was so good at _coping _with me. He's gone, Morgana, and the chances are that we will never see him again. I don't see why you're so worked up. He was only a servant."

"You moron!" Morgana shouted, her anger building up inside of her. Striding forward, she drew her hand back and slapped Arthur around the face as hard as she could. Taking advantage of his momentarily speechlessness, she continued on her rant.

"Don't you dare tell me that he was nothing more than a servant? He was your _friend, _Arthur. He stuck by you through it all. What about when you were bitten by the Questing Beast? He was distraught! And when you ran off with Sophia, _who_ bought you back to safety? _Merlin_, that's who! Now, unless you want me to make your life a living _hell_ forever, you will go after him and apologise. Then it is his choice whether he returns or not. Its time for you to grow up, Arthur, and get over yourself!"

Arthur stared at her in shock. His cheek was stinging slightly from where she had hit him, but it was the blows to his pride that hurt more. He knew that she was right; that he would regret it if he never saw Merlin again and that these were the terms that they had parted on. Indeed, he was beginning to regret it already, the look on Merlin's face as he shouted at him haunting him at the very moment. Only, he had never seen Morgana this emotional, not for a very long time.

"If it will keep you off my back," he muttered, grabbing his sword and striding past her out into the corridor beyond.

Rounding the corner, Arthur did not see the smug smile work its way onto Morgana's face as he left. She knew as well as he did that he was only using her as an excuse to cover up his wounded pride. Normally, this would annoy the king's ward, but the feeling of relief was too strong this time. Arthur was going after Merlin, meaning that someone would be able to save him from her nightmare. A satisfying start to the day, that was for sure.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you once again to all who took the time and effort to review, really appreciate it guys, thanks! :)**

Arthur sped down the corridor as fast as he could without looking like he was running. Little did he know that he was taking the exact route and style that Merlin had used only the day before, when he had been so terrified. If he had realised, Arthur would have probably stopped and considered how vulnerable Merlin had looked when he had coming pleading with Arthur to hide him. How he seemed to have visibly shaken with fright, making Arthur furious that someone could have done that to _his _servant. And how Arthur himself had treated him with such disdain when he had asked for a favour. Perhaps it was for the best that the prince allowed none of this thoughts cross his mind, determined not to get distracted from his mission of catching up with the missing boy.

It took him only a few moments to locate his horse and start flinging the saddle on, taking practically no care whatsoever about whether straps were properly fastened or not. It seemed not to matter, getting to Merlin was more important now, before he lost him forever. In record speed, the horse was ready to go. Taking the reigns, Arthur led his mount out of the stable, ignoring the puzzled glances that he was receiving from passers by.

Swinging himself up into the saddle, Arthur frowned. He had noticed in the process of saddling his own horse that Gaius's steed had also gone, but the prince had thought nothing of it. Not until he saw a very familiar figure leading the white horse back through the courtyard, his whole posture showing how broken the physician was. Climbing back down again, the prince walked out to meet him, trusting his faithful horse to stay where it was.

"Gaius? Are you alright?" The old man visibly jumped as the prince approached, obviously not having seen him beforehand. Arthur could tell by the expression on his face that he was frantically trying to cover his emotions, something that was confirmed at his bad attempt to change the subject.

"Sire? Where are you off to then? I didn't realise that there was a hunt planned for this morning."

"I suppose it was a bit of a last minute thing. And it is a hunt of a different sort. I'm going after Merlin. I have to apologise for my behaviour and take back what I said about him not returning."

"He's gone?" Gaius exclaimed, the look on his face close to horror. "No, no, no, this cannot be. Tyson cannot take him; he's too dangerous for that. Oh, Merlin, why did you have to be so trusting? What am I going to do? I promised Hunith that I would protect Merlin against his father and now he has gone…"

"Whoa, Gaius, slow down." Grasping the physician by the shoulder, Arthur took the reigns from his unresisting hand and lead both man and beast back towards the stables. After making sure that both horses were secure, Arthur turned once more to the visibly upset man.

"Now, I don't want you to do anything, Gaius. I'm going after Merlin, and if this Tyson is indeed dangerous, then I'll bring him home again. I'll look out for him, I promise. I owe him that much. You go and carry out your usual duties; I don't want my father getting too suspicious. Oh, and if he asks, tell him I've gone on a hunting trip for a few days. After all, it's not exactly a lie."

Untying his horse, Arthur once more set out across the courtyard. Just as he reached the gates, he heard a voice call after him.

"Be careful, Arthur. Tyson is not to be underestimated." Raising his hand in acknowledgment of the physician's warning, Arthur nudged the horse with his knees, encouraging it into a trot. As the city fell behind them, Arthur was soon going at a gallop, determined to make the wrongs right once again.

*

Merlin yawned loudly as the horses picked their way through the precarious undergrowth. They had been travelling for hours, dusk was beginning to settle softly over the forest, the trees blocking out even more of the light, causing shadows to dance daringly in front of the warlock. For some unknown reason, Tyson was leading him through an old path, one that was barely used, far away from the usual one that Merlin was used to following when he was out with Arthur. Pushing the thought away, Merlin instead focused on trying to keep awake. He refused to think of Arthur.

"How much further are we going tonight?" Merlin called up to Tyson, who was urging his horse through a particularly thick piece of undergrowth. The thief did not respond immediately, he had heard something. Knowing that they were nearing the meeting point, Tyson was being even more cautious than previously not to let Merlin realise that something was out of place.

"Not long now, my boy. We only need to clear this thick bit here and then we'll be able to stop for the night. You have done so well, most people wouldn't have made it this far. I'm impressed and proud of you, Merlin."

Merlin didn't answer. Maybe it was just because he was so tired, but he couldn't help feeling a little annoyed at Tyson's patronising tone. It was as if the man in front was gloating, showing that he knew something that the warlock didn't. Or maybe it was simply because he didn't know how to act in front of his son; it wasn't as if he had been able to have a lot of practice at the paternal attributes that came with fatherhood. What he didn't realise was that Tyson was deliberately trying to annoy him to keep him quiet. The thief didn't want his colleagues to know that Merlin was his son, not yet, anyway. He also didn't want the boy saying anything about Arthur. Tyson was sure that the others were nearby, there had been too many sounds that he recognised as footfalls to think that they were still alone. Somehow, he didn't believe that his boss would be best pleased if he found out that their new helper was the servant of the Crown Prince of Camelot and so could potentially meant that the knights were riding out after them at this very moment. Tyson thought that Gaius would stay quiet, but now that Merlin had left, there was no knowing what was going on back at the castle.

His unpleasant thoughts were torn from him when Tyson heard a thud sound from behind him. Merlin had just managed to get the horse through the small gap that Tyson's own steed had cleared in their battle with the hedge, but through the horse's nervous nature and Merlin's own exhaustion, the boy had found himself thrown off, landing in an undignified heap on the floor. Smiling softly at the sight of the innocent act of clumsiness, Tyson climbed down from his own horse, tied the reigns to a nearby branch and crossed the small clearing to help his son back to his feet.

Merlin took the outstretched hand gratefully; deciding that he must have just been paranoid beforehand, for Tyson's actions betrayed nothing but friendliness. Pulling him upright with a surprising amount of ease, Tyson didn't immediately let go of the hand. For just a moment, everything seemed to stand still. He forgot about his colleagues lurking nearby, forgot about the promise of magic, treasure and power awaiting him if this worked. All Tyson could feel was a rush of love towards the boy in front of him, the boy that he had fathered and who had turned out to be so decent, so good. If only the moment could have lasted, then who knows that Tyson would have become. But unfortunately for him, his new found humanity was not to last.

"Aw, ain't it sweet, Jackson? Tyson's found himself a little friend. I'm assuming that this is the boy? Or have you failed me again, you measle?"

Clenching his jaw hard, Tyson turned to face his master, feeling that hate pump through his veins. By turning away from Merlin, he didn't see the boy recline in horror at the appearance of the thieves. Tyson had been forced to smarten himself up to sneak into Camelot, but the other two had no concerns over appearances. If you were to think of a callous, blood thirsty, power craving thief, these two would fit the description perfectly.

"Of course it's him. You don't think that I really would have failed you, do you? Unlike Jacko here, some of us can actual carry out our missions without failing every time."

The second man who was yet to speak stepped forward threateningly at Tyson's insult, but their leader simply raised his hand and the man stopped dead in his tracks, shooting only glares.

"Well, are you not going to introduce us?"

Tyson turned back to Merlin, only to find that he was several feet away from where he had last been seen, backed against a tree, eyes widened in horror. It was only too clear that he had put together what Gaius had told him about the thieves trying to obtain the casket and the appearance of the men. This wasn't going to be as easy as Tyson had first considered.

"Merlin, this is Jackson and… what should he call you, sir?"

"Hmmm," the leader of the men pondered mockingly, stroking his beard and striding forward until he was directly in front of Merlin. Unable to retreat any further, Merlin found himself shrinking against the tree, trying to make himself as small as possible. His magical instincts were going into over drive, screaming warnings at him. He didn't need that to tell him that these men were evil though, and by the way Tyson's tone of voice had changed, his father was as well. Unable to believe how gullible he had been, Merlin let his gaze drift past the man standing menacingly over him and instead resting his eyes on his father, pleading silently with him to tell him that this wasn't true, that it wasn't happening. Unable to hold the gaze, Tyson studied his feet, not wanting to see how scared of them Merlin was. How scared of his own father the boy was. Amongst the flurry of his newly found emotions, Tyson was surprised how much that one, simple look could hurt.

"You can call me Master," the other man continued, leering unpleasantly at the warlock. At the smug look on his face, Merlin found that his anger was building. He wasn't some child ready to be bullied into doing what he was told. No. He was a warlock, protector of princes and fighter against evil. Straightening up defiantly, he looked the boss straight in the eye.

"No." he said flatly, not noticing Tyson seem to crumble at his defiance. "I already have a master. I will never call you that, for as long as I have breath in my body, my loyalties lie with another."

"Really?" the boss's eyebrows rose, but to Merlin's dismay, he only looked slightly amused. "And this _master _would be...?"

"No one," Tyson butted in quickly, meeting Merlin's gaze for the first time since the arrival of the others, frantically trying to send him a message that he shouldn't mention Arthur, unless he wanted things to get a lot worse. Unsure of whether or not he had been understood, for Merlin only looked back with cold contempt, he continued. "I used the skills I had to make sure that no one back in Camelot will miss him. All of his _friends _would have been glad to see the back of him."

"That was you?" Merlin gasped, sending shooting pains straight into Tyson's heart. "You made us fall out; you made us have all of those arguments over the last few days? I knew that there was magic involved, but I was prepared to trust you."

"Awww, how sweet," the boss mocked, standing to the side slightly so that he could face Tyson. That was all Merlin needed. His common sense giving way to fury, he flung himself at his father, forgetting their size difference.

Taken by surprise, Tyson had no time to react until he found himself bowled over by a flurry of red and blue. Unwilling to fight back and risk hurting his son, Tyson let Merlin take out his fury, realising by the tears streaming down the boy's face that he was hurting badly at being betrayed like that. He didn't have to suffer it for long though. At a signal from his master, Jackson strode forward and lifted the warlock off Tyson in one hand. Holding him by the collar, Jackson spun the boy to face the boss. Merlin glared at him angrily, realising that he actually towered over the man who liked to call himself master. Jackson, on the other hand, was a huge giant of a man, and it only took him one hand to hold onto the struggling warlock, almost as if he didn't notice Merlin's efforts to free himself. The boss stood and simply looked at the young warlock for a very long moment, causing Merlin to swallow nervously. As soon as he showed signs of fright, the boss reacted, lifting back his hand and striking him full on. If it wasn't for Jackson holding him up, Merlin would have certainly fallen from the impact.

"Looks like he may need some persuading to help us, then. Jackson, tie him up and make sure that he doesn't try anything like that again, I don't want him hurting himself before he faces the cave."

Jackson turned, dragging Merlin with him. Before he had gone more than a few steps, however, the boss called him back.

"Wait, Jackson. Let him go. Tyson, you do the honours. Prove to me where your loyalties lie, you're looking slightly emotional there, old friend."

Tyson climbed to his feet, glaring angrily at his master. Things were spiralling out of control. He had hoped that he would have been able to get Merlin favourable treatment compared to the rest of the so called sorcerers that they had tried to use in the past. Apparently, his boss wasn't thinking along the same lines. Striding over, Tyson grabbed Merlin by the arm, twisting it up behind his back and causing him to cry out in pain. Dragging him over to where the horses stood patiently, Tyson reached into one of the saddle bags and pulled out a length of rope, still maintaining his grip on Merlin, despite the increasing struggles. Spinning him around, Tyson bound the warlock's hands tightly behind his back, before giving him a fierce shove in the shoulder blades, causing him to fall to his knees in front of the boss.

"Never, ever question my loyalties again." Tyson spat, marching out of the clearing, breathing heavily.

The boss raised an eyebrow at Tyson's sudden departure, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. He almost seemed disappointed that that was the only reaction that he was going to get. Turning his attention back to the boy knelt in front of him, he stretched out a hand and gently lifted Merlin's chin until he was looking the warlock in the eye.

"You better be as good as they say you are. Or things are going to get unpleasant for you, boy."

"Why are you doing this?" Merlin cried, his voice filled with pain, both physical and emotional. "Please, don't do this!"

The boss merely looked at him, before signalling to Jackson, who pulled the warlock over to the tree. Sitting him against it, Jackson planted himself directly in front of him, leaving Merlin with no way to slip past him and escape into the night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you once again to those of you who have reviewed! Here comes the next bit with the hope you all enjoy! :)**

Arthur was hungry, cold and worst of all, lost. He had followed the tracks that he assumed had been made by Merlin and his father as they had travelled away from Camelot. To his surprise, they had taken a strange path, one barely used. Now that darkness had begun to fall and the tracks were not so obvious, Arthur realised with a start that he didn't actually know this part of the forest. Tyson had led them both deep into the forest, far away from the paths that the prince normally knew so well.

Deciding that he would never be able to find Merlin until morning, Arthur climbed stiffly down from his horse and set about making a small camp for the night. With a fire soon burning brightly in front of him, Arthur crouched close, draining the warmth that the flickering flames offered. He couldn't help but let his mind wander to Merlin. If the prince was stiff from a day in the saddle, it must be nothing compared to what the servant was feeling. Merlin hated riding for any lengths of time at the best of days, let alone when he was in a bad mood. If he _was_ in a bad mood, that was. Perhaps he simply did not care that Arthur had thrown him out, having had enough of the prince and using this as the opportunity he had been waiting for to leave. Shuddering slightly, Arthur told himself that it was only the cold that was making him shiver, nothing at all to do with Merlin.

Staring into the flames, Arthur was surprised that he could almost see Merlin's face staring back at him, wearing the wounded look that he had last seen cross the boy's face. Arthur couldn't believe what an idiot he had been. If it wasn't for Morgana and the slight bruise coming out on his cheek, the prince would have probably never gone after Merlin, instead letting him go with the impression that Arthur hated him. He would have most certainly been lost forever if that had been the case.

Desperate to try and retain some of the hope that he could patch things up again once he found him, Arthur pulled out his bundle of blankets and began to spread them out on the ground. He had no idea what he was going to say to Merlin when he caught up with them. What if he was in the middle of a deep and meaningful conversation with his father, and Arthur came along and interrupted? Would he hate him even more?

The prince really hoped that his damn pride wouldn't get in the way again. It seemed to be doing quite a lot of that lately. Or maybe they have just been arguing a lot. It was making Arthur's head spin just thinking about it. Lying down on the blankets, the prince banged his head against the ground with far more force than necessary, trying to vent his frustration. Just as he was beginning to get comfortable on the hard ground, something sounded through the air and made Arthur sit up, his heart beating fast. It had sounded like a cry of pain. No, it had been more than that. It had sounded like a cry of pain from Merlin.

Straining his ears, Arthur listened hard, harder than ever before. Focusing all of his attention into his hearing, the prince almost jumped when he heard the soft murmur of voices. Surrounded by a dense hedge, Arthur hadn't seen any sign of life anywhere. But yet, all it would take was for someone to be the other side of the hedge, and neither party would be aware of each other. A loud crashing sound made Arthur jump to his feet, pulling his sword silently out of his bag. The sound was as if someone was crashing his or her way through the undergrowth. But by listening hard, Arthur was able to tell that they were heading in the opposite direction. Feeling annoyed at himself for camping so close to someone else and not realising, Arthur stayed tense, sword ready in his hand. The next sound he heard there was no need to strain his ears for.

"Why are you doing this? Please, don't do this!"

"Merlin," Arthur muttered to himself, staring at the hedge in front of him in vain. The boy had sounded in pain, and was clearly frightened. Judging from what he had cried, it sounded as if Merlin was in some sort of trouble, probably something to do with the mysterious warnings that Gaius had given the prince.

Instinct was telling Arthur to start cutting through the hedge until he found his friend, but sense stayed his hand. Not knowing what the situation was, Arthur knew that if he went blundering through the hedge, he could easily be putting Merlin – as well as himself – into more danger. Hating the fact that he knew his friend was close by and in trouble, yet he could do nothing until he knew what the situation was, Arthur stayed poised, ready for action, using what he could gain from his senses to find out what was going on.

*

Merlin shifted his weight back so that he was resting against the tree. Holding his breath, he watched Jackson anxiously. Every time he had moved, the giant man had hit him, meaning that the warlock was stiff, cold, almost unable to feel his hands from where the ropes were cutting off his circulation, and above everything, sore. His face fell like a mass of bruises and his lip was still trickling blood. But it was his ribs that hurt most of all; the last blow had been particularly viscous. Watching the man in front of him with baited breath, Merlin couldn't help but feel immensely relieved when he did not stir, only letting out an enormous snore that matched his size. The whole of the camp was asleep, even Tyson who had returned a while ago, refusing to look at the boy tied by the tree.

Asleep? They were all asleep. Realising that he may not have another chance, Merlin carefully rose to a crouch, making sure that he was properly balanced before trying anything else. He knew that he would be able to make the ropes slide off with a flash of his eyes, but was unwilling to try it. He barely had enough room to manoeuvre around Jackson as it was, and was terrified that if the rope was to fall, whom it might disturb. Merlin also didn't want them to know the full extent of his powers, hoping that he would be able to use that to his advantage later on if this didn't work. Rising himself up to his full height, Merlin tried to stifle the gasp that escaped involuntarily as his ribs protested against the movement. Holding his breath, Merlin didn't dare to breathe as the boss stirred in his sleep, muttering under his breath.

As Merlin carefully tiptoed past Jackson and edged his way around the boss, the warlock froze as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Who dares disturb my slumber?" Terrified that he may have awoken the man, Merlin had not the courage to move. Eventually, the boss let out a snore that could rival Jackson's, and the warlock felt as if it was safe again. Throwing chance to the wind, Merlin headed for the thick undergrowth. However, rather than going in the way which that they had come, Merlin instead crept around to the far side. He only hoped that they wouldn't think he had gone the hard route when they found that he had disappeared. Shuddering at the thought of what could happen, Merlin focused on the task ahead.

It was painfully slow. With no use of his hands, and the rest of his body aching, Merlin could only take a few tentative steps at a time, holding his breath every time a twig cracked. Eventually, however, the warlock could see through to the other side of the hedge, and only had a few more steps to go before he would be free of them. As of yet, not one of thieves had heard the cracking branches, lost to whatever unpleasant dreams that they were living out in their sleep.

With a final step, Merlin was free of the hedge. But as he stepped forward, his foot caught on an exposed root and he went flying forward, landing with a thud that he thought would have been heard for miles. Not being able to prevent the yelp that sounded when he landed on his already bruised ribs, the warlock felt as if his heart was going to burst through his chest when a hand clapped itself over his mouth, silencing any further sounds. Merlin had never felt so hopeless in his life. Here he was, sprawled across the cold ground with his hands firmly tied behind him and his assailant pressing their knee into the small of his back, keeping him still. Merlin tried to wiggle out from under his attacker, but a sharp hiss stopped him, rendering him completely still once again, apart from the thudding of his heart that seemed to be making the ground beneath him tremble.

After a few moments, the figure pulled Merlin to his feet, still keeping one hand firmly over the warlock's mouth. Trying to use the fact that he was back on his feet to his advantage, Merlin began struggling against the assailant, desperately trying to not only free himself from the iron grip, but to keep as quiet as possible whilst doing so.

"For God's sake, _Mer_lin, stop struggling!" a voice breathed in his ear; one that did make him stop still in shock, for it was all too familiar. As soon as Merlin's efforts to free himself ceased, the hand disappeared.

"Arthur?" Merlin whispered, his voice only just loud enough for the prince to hear.

"Who else?" Arthur muttered, spinning Merlin around to face him. The dying embers of the fire gave him just enough light to realise that Merlin was in a state. A long line of bruises formed their way across his chin and up his cheek, the effect complete by the split lip and torn shirt. Trying not to give away what emotions were raging inside of him, Arthur led Merlin over to where his horse was tethered. Reaching into the bag, the prince pulled out his dagger. Trying to ignore the fact that Merlin had flinched at the sight of the weapon, Arthur motioned for him to come closer. Reluctantly, the servant did as he was bidden, watching the knife with apprehension. What did he honestly expect Arthur to do with it?

Reaching behind Merlin's back, Arthur quickly slid the knife through the ropes binding his wrists, and with one quick flick of his own wrist, released the warlock's hands. Rubbing his sore wrists, Merlin watched Arthur carefully as he placed the dagger back into the bag. His actions seem controlled, a normal indicator that something was troubling the prince.

"What are you doing here, Arthur?" Merlin whispered, keeping his voice low. The last thing that he wanted was for their voices to travel to the other side of the hedge, not after he had made it this far.

"Rescuing you, by the look of things," Arthur responded, his voice equally quiet. "Merlin, I…" Taking a deep breath, Arthur turned to face the servant.

"I wanted to say sorry for the way that I behaved. And I want you to know that you can always come back to Camelot, no matter what. I hated to think that those were the last words I may have ever said to you."

"You've been talking to Morgana, haven't you?" Merlin responded, unable to stop a cheeky grin spreading from over his face. To his relief, Arthur smiled back.

"More likely had a shouting match that ended in a fistfight, but yes, you could say that. I'm not exactly her favourite person at the moment. Merlin, for heaven's sake, you're shivering! Haven't you anything warmer to wear?"

"Well, I did, but funnily enough, they didn't really give me the chance to change before they tied me up. I don't think it was part of their plan to make sure that I was warm enough."

Tutting to himself, Arthur once again reached into his bag, pulling out his spare blanket. Tossing it to Merlin, he watched as the boy wrapped himself into it, snuggling gratefully in to the warmth. His movements were stiff, betraying to the prince that his ribs were causing him grief. When Arthur got his hands on whoever had done this, there would most certainly be hell to pay.

"Come on, get some sleep. We'll head back first thing in the morning; Gaius is worried sick about you."

Merlin lent his head gratefully against the blankets that Arthur passed over to him. Oh, but he was tired. The events of the day were finally beginning to catch up on him, and Merlin let his guard down, allowing emotions to wash over him in waves. That proved to be a mistake.

Almost as soon as he relaxed, Merlin felt a niggling feeling begin eating away at him. It started as something small, an odd flicker of annoyance here and there. But soon, it began to manifest into something much, much more. From feeling grateful to Arthur, Merlin soon became annoyed with the prince. Who did he think he was, swanning in and claiming that he was rescuing Merlin? As if he had needed any help. After all, he had just escaped from the thieves by himself. Sitting up angrily, Merlin pushed the blanket away and glared over the fire to where Arthur was making himself comfortable.

After a few moments, Arthur's actions became tense, as if he was trying to hold back his emotions. The blankets would be flung furiously one way, then dragged back the other way. Watching the agitated prince, reality hit Merlin hard. It was Tyson.

"Arthur, fight the feeling. You have to fight it. It's Tyson. He can use magic. He admitted earlier that it was him who made us argue. He can control people's emotions. Please, Arthur, you have to fight this."

"I think I would know if someone was using magic on me, Merlin. Unlike you, I'm not a trusting idiot."

"Don't give in to this, Arthur. You're not yourself. You have to fight it."

"Why do you always think that you're right when it comes to things like this, Merlin? It is as if you know more about magic than you are letting on!" Growing in anger, Arthur jumped to his feet, breathing heavily, and glared across the fire at the figure climbing gingerly to his feet on the other side.

Merlin watched Arthur apprehensively, noting with horror that the prince's whole demeanour was that of fury. As Arthur strode forward, Merlin made sure that nothing was playing on his own mind. Throwing his defences up as fast as he could, Merlin cleared his mind, focusing instead on the rapidly approaching prince. Thinking that he was still able to get through to the real Arthur, the warlock did not move. It came as an awful shock when a fist came swinging through the air, directed straight at him.

Ducking frantically, Merlin scrambled backwards, almost slipping over his own feet as he hastily tried to dodge Arthur's oncoming blows. Whatever Tyson was doing, it was far more powerful than he had done before: Arthur looked deadly. Glancing around the small clearing for anything that would give him an advantage over the prince without actually hurting him, Merlin stopped dead. Watching the whole spectacle, the three thieves stood on the far side of the clearing, looking delighted. Tyson was concentrating hard, obviously trying to direct his magic and overcome Merlin's defences. If only Merlin could get Arthur to see them, maybe he would snap out of it…

Dancing out of reach of Arthur's flaying fists, Merlin lead the prince around the other way, determined to get him to face the thieves. For one heart stopping moment, he thought he had achieved it when Arthur clearly looked in their direction, but to Merlin's dismay, continued his attack on the servant.

"Arthur, please," Merlin begged, realising that he was slowly becoming cornered. Physically and emotionally exhausted, the warlock was no match for Arthur's muscular build. He wasn't going to hold out much longer unless the real Arthur returned. Hearing the cold laugh of the boss, Merlin looked in their direction, resisting the urge to strike them down where they stood. By looking away, he didn't see the fist come flying in from the corner of his vision until it was too late. With stars spinning in front of his eyes, Merlin felt himself fall to the ground. Taking one last look at the furious prince, he succumbed to the darkness, his eyes flickering shut until he knew no more.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: i know, i know, i'm late with this update! Blame coursework and exams, not me! :) Sorry, this chapter is a little bit shorter again. Outrageous hey, first of all i make you wait, and then give you something shorter-I'M SORRY! :)**

Arthur felt himself slowly returning to consciousness. The last thing that he remembered doing was lying down to get some sleep, having just told Merlin to do the same. Yet here he was, the other side of the clearing, his fist raised back and stinging slightly. A cruel chuckle made the prince look up, to see three men standing watching him. One of them he recognised; it was the man with the magical voice. The other two Arthur had never seen before in his life, but just by looking at them, he instantly knew that these were the men who had hurt Merlin. Striding forward menacingly, Arthur felt his foot connect with something and he looked down. What he saw nearly made his heart leap out of his mouth. Lying at his feet, out cold, Merlin was motionless, a trickle of blood running down his temple, surrounded by the beginnings of an ugly bruise.

"What have you done to him?" Arthur yelled, the anger echoing through his voice.

"Nothing." The shortest of the men stepped forward as Arthur dropped to his knees by his servant. "You did it."

"What?" Arthur cried in disbelief. He would never do something like this to his best friend. But then again, he couldn't even remember how he ended up standing over this side of the clearing anyway. Setting his eyes on the man he recognised, Arthur glared at Tyson.

"It was you, wasn't it? Gaius warned me about you, that you were dangerous. Tell me what you did or I'll run you through where you stand." His voice was deadly quiet, a tone that Tyson had heard once before, although Arthur was not to know that. At the threat, he risked a glance at his master, who was watching the scene unfold with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, enough talk. Jackson?"

Arthur's eyes flickered from man to man, realising with a growing sense of dread that his belt was empty. He had dropped his sword over by the fire when Merlin had first come flying out of the bush; too busy trying to keep the servant quiet to worry about keeping hold of the sword. Swallowing, slightly nervous, as the largest of the men stepped forward, Arthur subconsciously tensed, preparing himself for the fight. He wasn't going to let them take Merlin again, not if he could help it.

The man strode forward into the clearing just as Arthur stood. He swung his fist blindly for the prince, but he was slow. Quick as lightning, Arthur ducked under the blow and bought his knee up sharply. Feeling an immense amount of satisfaction as the man dropped with a sudden 'whoosh', Arthur turned his attention back to the other two. After seeing their comrade fall, the remaining thieves had both drawn their swords, and had begun circling Arthur like hawks. Backing away in order to keep them both in his line of vision, Arthur let them approach, knowing that he could do nothing with them at a distance.

Allowing them to believe that he was giving up, Arthur tried not to give any movements away as they came closer and closer. Tyson was the first to reach him, stretching out his hand that held the sword. Before he had time to react, Arthur grabbed hold of the wrist and twisted upwards, causing Tyson to let go of the sword with a howl of pain. Two down, one to go.

The third man looked livid as Tyson dropped to the floor, cradling his broken wrist in his good hand. Arthur met his gaze straight on, squaring his shoulders as the two of them began to circle each other, never breaking eye contact. Arthur had just made it into the perfect position for an attack when things began to go downhill for the prince. Avoiding a blind lunge from the man, the prince stumbled backwards. Trying to regain his footing, Arthur took another step back, determined to correct his positioning. He had been so focused on the fight that he had forgotten his positioning. His step back – instead of helping him – only made matters a lot worse as he felt himself falling over the unconscious Merlin. Hitting the ground hard, Arthur had no time to react until the boss was upon him. As he placed the tip of the sword against the exposed skin of Arthur's neck, the prince dared not move, his body tensing where he lay. With a satisfied smirk, the man kept his menacing position as his two colleagues climbed back to their feet. The big man, the one who had been called Jackson, grabbed Arthur as the leader moved his sword, pinning the prince's arms firmly behind him, leaving him with no option but to stay still.

"Bring them both," the man commanded, sheathing his sword as he stalked off into the forest. Jackson pushed Arthur in front of him, allowing the prince a few moments of despair as Tyson slung Merlin over his shoulder, using his good hand to hold the warlock in place, sheltering the wounded one carefully in front of him.

*

Gaius sat with his head resting against the bench, snoring lightly. There were numerous pieces of parchment littered around him, nearly all of them screwed up. How many times had he tried to tell Hunith that what she had feared had come true, that Tyson had indeed returned for Merlin? He had promised to protect Merlin from his father, promised that he would keep him safe. And now he had failed in doing so. With Arthur vanishing as well, the king was bound to get suspicious soon. But this time, the trusted physician had no answers for his king, not without putting Merlin in even more danger. It seemed that Gaius was stuck; every turn he could have taken only seemed to lead to more trouble.

A soft knock on the door bought the troubled physician back into the real world. Opening his eyes blearily, Gaius pushed his spectacles back up his nose, rescuing them from falling after they had slipped in his sleep. He peered over to the door, the dim light making it difficult to tell who would come calling at this time of night. Lady Elizabeth stood framed in the doorway, the flickering candlelight from the corridor behind her sending swirling patterns into the room, both hypnotising and mysterious at the same time. Climbing stiffly to his feet, Gaius bowed his head, a reaction that was something automatic rather than any conscious effort to do so.

"Have you heard anything, my dear Gaius?" she asked, stepping further into the room. Her concern touched her old friend, showed him that not everything in the world was bad, however much the opposite seemed to be true at this moment in time.

Sighing, the old physician shook his head, the sadness in his eyes shouting out to Elizabeth how badly he needed someone to confide in. He bore more secrets than anyone else in the castle – than anyone that she knew, in fact. Everyone with a form of illness that they didn't want anyone to know about had taken advantage of how trustworthy Gaius was. Lying onto him all of their problems, as if that would make them go away, hoping that he had the power to banish their demons, most of them psychological. Most of the time, it did help the patient; Gaius always said that talking about something was the first step to curing it. But who was there to listen to him in a time like this?

"He's left with Tyson. Arthur told me himself. The prince has ridden out after them. Apparently he and Merlin had some kind of fight before they left – probably of Tyson's doing – and Arthur wanted to apologise."

Ignoring the look of incredulity that shot over Elizabeth's face at the idea of the previously vain prince wanting to apologise, Gaius continued.

"He told me that I had to carry out my duties as normal, or the king would get suspicious, which most likely would mean trouble for Merlin. He said…he said that he would bring him home again."

"Oh, Gaius! I'm so sorry. I know how much Merlin means to you." Swallowing awkwardly past the lump that had suddenly sprung unbidden into her throat, Elizabeth bought the matter around to the real reason that she had visited the physician so late in the evening.

"Gaius, John and I are leaving the country. We have family out there, and John tires of life at court. He is not as young as he used to be, and the pressures of maintaining his status are starting to get too much for him, the poor dear. If Merlin does not, or cannot return to you, I came to ask you, dear, dear friend, whether you would consider joining us. Escape from the pressures of court physician for a while, have some time to yourself."

"Dear Beth, your offer is more generous than anything. I promise you that I will consider it, if things do not work out. But for now, here I must be. I must wait for my world to return to me."

"Of course, Gaius. I expected nothing more. This is goodbye for now, old friend. I hope that we will be once more reunited before long." Extending out her hand, Elizabeth smiled sadly at the old man in front of her as he bent to kiss it. She knew, no matter what Gaius had said, that he would never leave Camelot, even if the boy did not return. He would never be able to call anywhere else home.

Watching her go, Gaius sat back down heavily and began to think again. But not about what he had promised to consider. Instead of thinking about the future life that could be waiting for him, away from the problems that were now haunting the old physician, Gaius instead turned his mind back to Merlin and the problem of trying to tell Hunith what had happened.

**Review? Pwetty please with a cherry on top!**

**Thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far, you're the best! **


	15. Chapter 15

**As usual thank you to all of you who reviewed! Here comes the next chappie...**

Arthur lent his head back against the tree with a sigh of despair. He had been trying to free himself for what felt like hours, but if there was one thing that these thieves knew how to do, it was tying knots. His hands were pinned behind him, lashed securely together and then fastened to the tree by an extra length of rope, causing the prince huge problems for reaching the unconscious figure spread out in front of him. Merlin was still out cold. Apart from retying the boy's hands, the thieves had ignored the warlock after dumping him unceremoniously in front of a guilt-stricken prince. If Arthur had only listened to Merlin and fought against the feeling that had penetrated deep within him, then they wouldn't be in this situation: Merlin would be safe and sound back with Gaius, and Arthur wouldn't be feeling like he had betrayed his friend.

A soft groan echoed through the air, causing Arthur to snap his head forward again so quickly that his neck let out a resounding click. Anxious to not draw attention to the fact that Merlin was regaining consciousness, Arthur remained quiet, only watching with baited breath as the eyelids began to flicker, revealing the blue orbs beneath. What happened next, Arthur thought would make his heart break. Merlin locked eyes with the prince, and then tried to squirm away, fear all too obvious in his eyes. But it wasn't fear of the thieves; it was fear of the prince. Of what he was going to do.

"Merlin! Merlin, are you alright?" Trying to keep his voice low, Arthur felt like he was more hissing at the servant than asking after his health. Watching Arthur guardedly, Merlin didn't respond, still trying to back away from the restrained prince. Lying flat out on the floor with his hands bound behind him once again, this was no easy task, especially not as his ribs were smarting at the movement and his head was pounding mercilessly.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry! You were right; Tyson did have control over me. I had no idea what I had done. I only remembered lying down to get some rest, then waking up to find you out cold at my feet and them telling me that I had done it. Please, you have to believe me; I would never do anything to hurt you."

"You didn't seem to care beforehand," Merlin whispered back, his voice full of emotion.

Shutting his eyes in dismay, Arthur lent back against the tree once more, feeling drained. He wasn't used to having to handle situations like this; it normally got left to Morgana. Unknown to Arthur, Merlin scrutinised his master closely, noting how worn he looked. Guilt was plastered all over his face, making the warlock reconsider his previous fright. Maybe he really had had no control. Merlin was lucky: he knew that his magic offered him some form of resistance to Tyson, and had forgotten that Arthur was not as lucky. The position that the prince was in made Merlin realise that he was not the only one with bound hands, proving that Arthur was in just as much trouble as he was. Perhaps even more. After all, the thieves still needed Merlin alive for the time being.

"Please believe me, Merlin. No matter how stuck up I can be at times, I would never hurt you."

"Did you just admit that you can be a prat, then?" Merlin replied, trying to lighten the situation. With the realisation that Arthur was indeed feeling guilty, Merlin knew that there was no reason to be afraid. And the fact that they had tied the prince to the tree against which Merlin himself had so recently sat, they obviously weren't planning to use Arthur to attack him again. That offered some reassurance, for the warlock was not sure whether he could bring himself to hurt the prince, even in self defensive.

Arthur looked quickly towards his servant at the words. To his utmost relief, Merlin's eyes had lost their fear, and he even managed to offer Arthur a small smile, which the prince responded with likewise. It was good to know that the boy was not really afraid of him, for Arthur did not know how he would react to that. His smile, however, was short lived. Approaching from behind Merlin, the three thieves came striding into view.

Oblivious to the danger that he was in, Merlin failed to notice the warning look that Arthur was trying to give him. Frowning in confusion at the expression on the prince's face, Merlin only noticed the approach of the thieves when he felt a large hand grasp the back of his jacket, lifting him clean of the floor. Letting out a small yelp of surprise, Merlin hardened his expression defiantly as Jackson placed his feet back on the floor again, maintaining his grip on Merlin's collar.

His heart beating fast, Arthur tugged frantically at the bonds holding him in place, determined to break lose. If the thieves could defeat the prince, then what chance did Merlin have?

"So," the boss began slowly, his drawling voice making Merlin's skin crawl. He tried to glance back over his shoulder at Arthur, but Jackson's broad frame blocked his view.

"You thought that you could escape, did you?"

"I didn't just think it, I did it," Merlin spat at the man in front of him, drawing his spindly frame up to his full height so that he towered over the man in front of him. The boss's mocking smile disappeared in an instance and he glared at Merlin in hatred, causing the warlock to shudder slightly. Even Arthur, prince of deathly glares, had nothing compared to the look that the boss was giving him now. Without saying another word, the boss drew his knee back and sank it straight into Merlin's stomach; almost identical to the way in which Arthur had winded Jackson. Falling to his knees, Merlin couldn't help but let out a small gasp of pain, the sudden movement jarring his already sore ribs.

Jackson moved around the warlock, allowing his master a better picture of what was happening. However, his movement also meant that Merlin now had a clear vision of Arthur, who was desperately trying to free himself. An apology for doubting the prince shot out from Merlin's eyes, causing Arthur to blink in acceptance of it.

An unspoken message that spoke louder than any words could ever manage.

Merlin's attention was sharply bought back from Arthur when Jackson clamped his large hand on the warlock's small shoulders, almost causing his knees to buckle where he knelt. Held firmly in place, Merlin could only watch with growing dread as the boss advanced painfully slowly on the defenceless boy.

"Now, remind me again. I seem to remember that you said that you would never call me master whilst you still had breath in your body, that your loyalties belonged to another, yes?" The boss came to a stop in front of Merlin, but his eyes were on Arthur. At his words, the prince had stopped struggling and was looking at Merlin with a sense of respect, a token for his loyalty. Unfortunately for both of them, the boss correctly interpreted the reason for his stillness and began to laugh, an evil laugh that bounced throughout the clearing and through Merlin's pounding head.

"No, no, no, this is too good to be true." Walking over to Arthur, the boss placed his hand on the prince's shoulder, choosing to ignore the prince's attempt to dislodge it. Jackson once again pulled Merlin to his feet, spinning him around to face the pair by the tree properly.

"_This _is your master? This pathetic whelp here? Oh my, this is too perfect."

Merlin glared at the boss, only vaguely aware that Arthur was doing the same. No one called the crowned prince of Camelot a whelp in front of Merlin, not without paying for it. Throwing himself forward with a yell of rage, Merlin somehow broke his way free of Jackson's iron grip and flung himself at the boss, forgetting momentarily that with his hands tied behind him, he was in no position to fight. He did have one thing to his advantage, however – surprise. The boss was too stunned to react as the warlock hurtled at him, a ball of fury. With a sudden smack, the two collided and landed as a heap beside Arthur.

But then Merlin's luck ran out. With no means of being able to get to his feet again, Merlin found himself hopelessly spread out across the floor, his feet pinned beneath him by the boss's wait. Jackson and a one handed Tyson had also begun to get their wit's back about them, but at a sharp command from their master as he climbed unsteadily to his feet meant that they stayed exactly where they were, although Jackson was clearly itching to be involved. Touched more than words could express about Merlin's reaction, Arthur tried to buy his faithful servant some more time.

As the boss finally regained his footing, allowing the warlock to move, Arthur acted. The boss made to stride forward towards Merlin, but found himself once more flat on the floor, Arthur's foot sticking up innocently to one side where it had tripped the man. Thankfully, Merlin also used the time to move, somehow wiggling away from the boss and, although he had no idea how he managed it, rolled himself onto his front and unsteadily climbed to his feet. Looking over at Arthur, who by this point had gone back to trying to free himself, Merlin opened his mouth to thank the prince for his help. Arthur, however, cut in first.

"Run! Go, Merlin, get out of here."

Knowing that when Arthur used that tone of voice, it was foolish to try and disobey him, Merlin did just that. Speeding around the tree, he subconsciously avoided anything in his path that attempted to trip him. The noises of the men behind him springing into action were but a blur as Merlin focused his attention on freeing himself from the clearing. Once he had managed that, the warlock thought furiously. He needed to free his hands and go back for Arthur.

A sudden yell behind him made Merlin pause. The yell had sounded distinctly like the prince. Maybe there wouldn't be time to go back for Arthur; maybe he had to free the prince _now_. Preparing to use magic to somehow cut Arthur free of the tree without revealing what he had done, Merlin turned. The sight before him made his blood run cold.

**Dun dun dun...**

**Sorry, evil cliffhanger, i couldn't resist! Don't kill me :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry for the evil cliffhanger of last time, i couldn't resist it! Just to make up for it, this chapter is a bit longer than the others have been!**

**Thank you so much for all of you who have stuck with this story so far and have let me know what you thought!**

The thieves had beaten Merlin to freeing Arthur from the tree. Although his hands were still tightly bound behind him, the prince was once again standing. Only this time, he was locked in the iron grip of Jackson, barely able to move at all apart from glaring angrily. And quite impressively as well, if the truth be told. But even that wasn't what made Merlin freeze. It was the boss. Holding his sword out in a steady hand, the boss laid the point carefully across Arthur's neck, his intention more than clear. Arthur tried to lean back into Jackson to escape the cold metal pressed against his flesh, his eyes pleading with Merlin to run. He felt bad enough as it was, and really didn't want to be the reason that Merlin was caught for the third time in an evening.

Even with receiving Arthur's silent message for him to get out of there, Merlin could not run. The last few hours had taught him more than enough about the boss, and he knew full well that if he moved so much as an inch, Arthur would be killed. Merlin remained frozen where he was, locking eyes with the boss, sending out the message that he had won, that the warlock would not move. Sneering, the man nodded to Tyson, who immediately jumped to do his master's bidding. _Like a dog_, Merlin thought bitterly to himself as he watched his father approach him. Arthur wasn't the only one who was trying to send silent messages to the warlock, Tyson's eyes were also telling another story. He seemed to be begging his son to go along with whatever his master had planned, almost reassuring the boy that all would be well in the end. Merlin, however, was not taken in for an instant. He had been fooled by Tyson once, and because of that, he had endangered not only himself, but his closest friend as well. It was going to take a lot more than silent messages for him to trust the man with the musical voice again.

Whether or not Tyson realised that his son had received the message and was ignoring it, or whether it had been lost along the way, it couldn't be told; his expression remained neutral. Grabbing Merlin by the arm, Tyson led the warlock back into the clearing, causing him to stumble a few times at the awkward angle that he was being forced to walk in. Led by the arm with his hands tied behind him meant that Merlin was almost walking sideways as he struggled to keep up with Tyson's fast pace. But although the pace was fast, Merlin couldn't help but notice how gentle the grasp on his arm was. It was as if Tyson was trying his utmost not to hurt him. Just before the pair reached the centre of the clearing again, Tyson spun Merlin to face him. Raising his hand, the crack made Arthur wince in Jackson's hold at the sound of the slap. That had got to hurt.

Merlin stood slightly stunned as he gazed up at his father. Winking, Tyson pushed Merlin further into the clearing. Motioning with a slight tilt of his head, Tyson gave him one more shove in the back, causing Merlin to fall painfully to his knees. At least it appeared painful. As a matter of fact, the sound of the slap had been Tyson's hand against his leg, all the while mouthing to Merlin to play along. Not wanting to trust the man, but feeling that he could be risking Arthur's life if he did not do as instructed, Merlin did indeed play along. The shove that sent him to his knees was but a gentle tap, Merlin doing the falling himself. However, the boss and Jackson had no such intentions of letting him get away with another attempted escape. Almost flinging Arthur over to Tyson, the two men leered above the boy.

Merlin locked eyes with Arthur as the two men approached him. He was kneeling in front of Tyson; the point of the blade digging into his back, obviously insurance that Merlin wouldn't use magic to retaliate. His eyes seemed to be full of raging emotions, telling the warlock how sorry he was for all of this, how he had not meant for any of it to happen. But more importantly, that he would not abandon Merlin, that they were going to get out of this together.

Refusing to look at the two men advancing on him, Merlin stared fiercely at Arthur, who held his gaze with equal intensity. Arthur knew perfectly well what Merlin was doing: he was latching onto a source that he could focus on, knowing only too well what was coming next. He didn't have to wait for long. The second that Jackson reached the warlock, he sent his foot flying out, connecting hard with Merlin's side, sending him flying sideways, straight into the boss's range of fire. Not allowing a single gasp of pain escape him, Merlin continued to look at Arthur, although his eyes were now filled with pain rather than determination. The boss mirrored Jackson's action, sending the boy back again. Reaching down, Jackson roughly pulled Merlin to his feet, circling his thick arm around his neck as the boss approached.

"Whilst you still had breath in your body? Well, that can be easily fixed."

Using the flat of his hand, the boss struck Merlin full on against the ribs, sending a spine-chilling noise into the air that made Arthur's blood run cold. Merlin's face lost all colour as the rib cracked, gasping in the pain that he had been so desperately trying to hold back. Dropping the young warlock, Jackson released his hold on the boy and let him fall to the floor. Merlin lay perfectly still where he had fallen, agony searing through his chest as his breaths came out in short gasps, the broken rib making it hard to draw enough oxygen in from the air.

Arthur shuddered, feeling the point of the sword digging even further into his back. But it didn't seem as if Tyson was pressing harder, more like Arthur was leaning back into it. The hand holding the sword let out an involuntary tremble, making the prince aware of how Tyson was feeling. He was no happier about the situation that his son was in than Arthur was. Deciding to risk helping his friend, Arthur carefully drew his feet under him, raising himself to a crouch, but keeping a cautious eye on the thieves in front of him. They seemed to be too distracted dealing with his servant to notice what the prince was doing, allowing Arthur to tense himself, ready to move.

The slight lowering of the sword was all the invitation the prince needed to react. Tyson didn't seem to notice that he had let his guard down, not until it was too late. Gritting his teeth with the hope that this was going to work, Arthur stood up sharply, causing the sword to slip straight between his wrists and cut the rope. Letting out a sigh of relief that he actually had managed to carry it off, Arthur didn't wait long enough to see Tyson's reaction, but instead threw himself forward.

Colliding head first with Jackson, Arthur sent the pair of them flying backwards and crashing into the tree. Luckily, Jackson's bulk had borne most of the impact, allowing Arthur to once again sprint back to where Merlin was lying. Tyson hadn't moved, watching the prince open mouthed as the sword hung loosely by his side, his injured arm cradled carefully. Standing over Merlin, Arthur glared at the boss, his eyes burning. The two did nothing for a long moment, only staring at each other as Merlin whimpered between them, obviously trying to stop Arthur doing anything rash, but being in no position to force the prince to listen to him. Even if he knew what Merlin was thinking, Arthur had no intention of listening. He was going to make the boss pay for what he had done to Merlin, if it was the last thing he did.

With a yell, Arthur once more propelled himself forward, lashing out with his foot. The boss saw the blow coming and quickly dodged to the side, but Arthur was not going to be caught unaware again. Altering his own position, the prince steadied himself, watching the boss like a hawk, ready for any movement that would give away his intentions. It didn't take long for the boss to do that just that. Although he was good, he was no match for a prince that had been trained since birth. All Arthur had to do was wait. The slight tensing of his knees made the prince realise that the boss intended using Arthur's own trick and was about to spring forward. The corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly at this chance, Arthur acted as if he had seen nothing.

Suddenly, the boss moved, flying forward at an astonishing speed, shooting straight over Merlin and heading directly for Arthur. What he didn't count on, however, was Arthur knowing exactly what he had planned to do. At the very last moment, the prince stepped sharply to one side, leaving it too late for the boss to do anything about it. He was sent sprawling, crashing into the earth hard. For a moment, he didn't move, too stunned by the impact to get a thought straight in his twisted mind, let alone find his feet again. With Jackson still over by the tree and Tyson not reacting at all, Arthur quickly bent over Merlin.

"Sorry, this is going to hurt."

Without waiting for a reply, the prince grabbed his servant and draped him over his shoulders, trying to ignore the sharp gasp of pain that came from Merlin. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to carry him long like this, Arthur set off as fast as he could, determined to put the clearing as far behind him as possible. Where he was going, he was not certain, but he let his feet carry him along an unknown path, as he struggled to maintain his grip on Merlin. It wasn't that the boy was heavy – far from it – but the awkward position that he was in meant that it was difficult to keep a firm hold on him without causing him too much pain.

Eventually, Arthur could go no further. Merlin's dead weight was weighing down on him, plus he was exhausted and sore himself. Gently placing the warlock on the ground, Arthur frowned in concern when he realised how deathly pale the boy was. That rib was obviously causing him great problems. Racking his brains frantically for what Gaius would do, Arthur shrugged off his jacket. Pulling his shirt over his head, the prince then pulled his jacket back on, shivering in the night air. Using his teeth to rip through the material, Arthur proceeded to tear his shirt into shreds. For the first time in his life, Arthur regretted the shirt being made of such good material: it made tearing it difficult. Finally, however, the shirt lay in tatters around Arthur, who was thinking hard about what he had to do now.

Muttering a quick apology to Merlin, he gently rolled him over and fumbled with the ropes, cursing how well tied the knots were. It seemed to take him ages to get them undone, but finally he pulled them away, only to find that Merlin's wrists were rubbed raw. Gritting his teeth in anger, Arthur chose to ignore it for now; he had to get that rib secured before Merlin ended up in even more danger than he already was. Gently manoeuvring the servant into a sitting position, Arthur shut his ears to the whimpers of pain, knowing that he would not be able to bring himself to touch anything if he listened. But touch he had too, if Merlin was to stand a chance.

"Merlin? We're going to have to lift your shirt; I need to secure that rib. It is going to hurt, but it must be done. You ready?"

"If I have too," Merlin groaned, his voice coming out at little more than a whisper.

"You do," Arthur told him, trying to make his voice sound light-hearted to sooth the injured boy. He only hoped that Merlin didn't notice how much it shook.

Counting down from three, Arthur acted swiftly, knowing that the sooner it was strapped up, the more comfortable Merlin would be. Jerking the cloth over his head, Arthur winced as Merlin inhaled sharply, a clear indication of what the movement had done. Apologising, Arthur then set about doing what he hoped was right. If only Gaius was here.

After what seemed to be a lifetime to Arthur, he finally rested Merlin back against a nearby tree, biting his lip anxiously as he took in his friend's ashen complexion. He only hoped that he had done it right and not made matters worse. Gratefully, Merlin cracked his eyes open and offered Arthur a small smile.

"How does it feel?" Arthur asked, his voice soft and low, radiating with concern. Gingerly, Merlin shifted position, before offering Arthur another smile, this one a lot stronger.

"Much, much better. It doesn't hurt nearly as much now. Thank you, sire."

"Merlin? Was it true what the boss man said? That you told him your loyalties lied with another? Even after everything I had just put you through, you really said that?"

"Well, someone has to stop you being too much of a prat."

"True," Arthur laughed, his heart feeling lighter than it had done for hours. Merlin was conscious and talking, and judging by the way that he kept fidgeting, was a lot more comfortable than before. There were no sounds of the thieves pursuing them; the forest was silent. With the moon shining down prettily, bathing the entire place in silver light, Arthur finally decided that things had begun to once again look up.

"Get some rest, Merlin. We head back at first light."

Merlin let out a soft laugh, sleepily opening his eyes again to peer at Arthur in some amusement.

"Last time you said that, sire, you then proceeded to attack me. Sure I'm safe to get some sleep?"

"Very funny," Arthur told him, sitting cross-legged on the ground. Never mind what he told Merlin to do; the prince had no intention of getting any sleep himself. The thieves were not going to sneak up on them again, nor was Arthur going to let his defences down at all. This time, Merlin would be perfectly safe to get some sleep; Arthur was going to make sure of it.

Merlin slid down the tree that he had been leaning against, and curled up on the hard ground. He was still extremely uncomfortable, but no longer in the pain that he had been in before: Arthur had seen to that. Watching the prince guard over him, Merlin could not stop a small smile grace across his features even as he drifted off, frantically hoping that Arthur had not seen it.

Arthur felt a small smile of his own appearing as he watched Merlin fall asleep. He had indeed seen that smile and was glad that Merlin trusted him again. That look of fear he had given the prince earlier was burned into Arthur's memory, and he hoped beyond hope that he would never see it on his servant's face again. Sliding his way over to the tree, Arthur carefully manoeuvred himself around the snoozing servant and propped himself up, settling down to a long night of keeping guard. It would have been helpful if he weren't so tired.


	17. Chapter 17

**Wow, another long one. This is getting to be something of a habit here! Hope you all enjoy...**

Merlin didn't realise that he had fallen asleep until he felt the strangest sensation pull him back from the realm of dreams. Wincing as he stirred, the young warlock blearily opened his eyes, letting his gaze wander around the clearing. All was still and quiet, giving nothing away about what could have woken the boy. Eventually, his gaze fell on Arthur and he smiled softly. All had obviously been peaceful, for the prince had fallen asleep where he was, his head resting on his chest as it rose and fell with his steady breathing. Somehow, watching Arthur sleep gave Merlin a larger sense of security than seeing him stand guard. It was as if this was no more than one of their normal hunting trips, a bit of fun rather than the deadly game they had become caught up in.

Climbing to his feet as the sensation gave yet another throb, Merlin's thoughts turned to Tyson. He was confused about how he felt about his father. There had definitely been some kind of connection between the two of them before the arrival of Jackson and the boss; Merlin had felt it. But then he had been betrayed, tied up like an animal whilst his father tried to prove himself. That should have made things so much clearer about whose side Tyson was on, but then came the incident after Merlin had tried to escape for a second time. The side of the man that had been shown to the warlock alone made him once again reconsider his previous feelings. Perhaps Tyson had felt the connection as well?

Sucking in a sharp hiss of pain as the movement of standing jolted his rib, Merlin slowly stretched, relishing in the fact that he had complete freedom in his arms again. That seemed to have been something of a luxury throughout the last few hours, the raw skin around his wrists providing testimony to it. Halfway through stretching, Merlin stopped, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge. Something was out of place here; the magic within Merlin was informing him of that much.

After sweeping the area for a second time and uncovering nothing, Merlin did so for a third time, only not using his eyes. With a flash of his suddenly golden eyes, the magic bounced around the clearing, picking up things that his senses could never manage. For one heart stopping moment, the warlock thought that the prince would wake as the magic passed over him, but Arthur only gave a small grunt and slid further down the tree, lost in dreams. Letting out the breath that he didn't even know he had been holding, Merlin turned his attention back to the task at hand. Whatever was around, it seemed to be magical. The probe that Merlin had sent was shimmering gracefully in the moonlight, indicating that the area was imprinted with an old and powerful magic.

Frowning in confusion as he accepted what the probe was telling him, Merlin began to slowly walk around the clearing, desperately searching for anything that would give away where this strange sensation was coming from. Subconsciously avoiding any fallen branches that might alert the sleeping prince to the fact that his servant, who was supposed to be resting, was instead looking for something of a magical source, Merlin barely noticed where his feet were carrying him, instead letting the magic guide him. He soon came to an abrupt stop, his magic telling him exactly where the source was, but causing the warlock even greater problems than before. His probe had never let him down before, leading him to magical objects and sorcerers alike that he knew wished to harm either Camelot or its prince. But this time, it had led him to a dead end. Instead of revealing some mystical object, Merlin found himself face to face with a stone wall. Nothing magical about that. Even Arthur could have told him that one.

Sending out questioning streams of magic, Merlin frowned. There could be no denying it; the magic was coming from the wall. As the light in front of him gave another pulse, realisation slowly began to dawn on the warlock. It wasn't the actual wall that was magic, but whatever lay behind it! His curiosity getting the better of him, Merlin stretched his fingers out, magic dancing across the tips gracefully. Sending out an elegant stream of magic, Merlin felt his frown deepen as the magic simply bounced off, having absolutely no effect on the wall whatsoever. Trying again, the effect was the same. Nothing. Deciding that perhaps he was just too tired to make the magic work properly, Merlin turned, intending to head back to the clearing and get some more rest. Arthur would kill himself otherwise. Stepping forward, the warlock barely had any time to comprehend what was happening until he felt his feet shoot out from underneath him. Slipping backwards, Merlin let out a strangled cry as he fell back, certain that he was going to smash his head on the wall behind.

Then something extraordinary happened. Instead of the expected impact against the rock, Merlin carried on falling back, straight through the solid wall. With a sudden bump, he found himself sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the rock face that was now in front of him. The magic within him gave a strange tingling sensation, not unlike the one that had woken him initially, only a lot stronger. He was a lot closer to whatever it was that was letting out this aura – he could feel it. With the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to stand up on end, Merlin climbed unsteadily to his feet, noting with a sinking heart that it was pitch black and he had no idea how to get back out again.

Involuntarily, the warlock began to walk down the long, winding tunnel that he had found himself in. He was unable to give a reason as to why; it just seemed to be the right thing to do. Before he had gone more than a few steps, his fingertips brushed against something cold balancing against the wall and the warlock felt as if his heart was about to jump straight through his mouth.

"_Luminarium_."

Muttering the spell softly, Merlin smiled in satisfaction as his palm burst into light, the magical orange glow shimmering softly in the darkness. Steeling himself for whatever he might see, Merlin looked down to see what had brushed his hand. To his utmost relief, it was nothing more than a torch, slightly damp from exposure to the musty air. Placing his iridescent palm next to the head of the torch, the warlock uttered a soft command and the head roared into life, the flickering flames shooting high before settling back down. Allowing the magical light to fade, Merlin picked up the burning torch, wincing slightly as the movement jolted his rib. The flames filled Merlin with warmth, a sense of hope penetrating deep within him. With no idea what he was doing, the warlock continued further into the cave.

*

A soft breeze drifted over the sleeping prince, stirring him from the realm of dreams. Blearily, Arthur slowly opened one eye, then the other. Within an instant, he took in the surroundings and sprung to his feet, unable to believe that he had fallen asleep. He had the practice of keeping guard for years, insisting that the older knights let their prince take his turn. But now, possibly when it was needed the most, the exhausted man had dozed off.

Glancing down to where Merlin had been sleeping, Arthur felt his stomach drop. The boy was nowhere to be seen. A quick scan of the clearing indicated that much. Merlin had vanished. Feeling a cold sense of dread creep into him, Arthur slowly walked away from the tree, frantically looking everywhere for the missing servant. When his search concluded that Merlin was no longer in the clearing, Arthur stopped dead. What if the thieves had returned and taken him? Even this moment, he could be suffering at their hands, or worse. With a great effort, Arthur pushed the thought that Merlin could already be dead far from his mind. He was used to being in this sort of situation; all he had to do was to step back and start to think logically.

Taking a deep breath to clear his head, Arthur looked more closely at where Merlin had been resting. There was no disturbance there of any sort, indicating that there had definitely not been any struggle taking place. _Besides_, the prince thought to himself, _he wasn't sleeping that deeply_. If the thieves had indeed returned, then there would have been no way they could have taken Merlin without wakening him. The servant certainly made enough noise. Crouching down next to the slightly ruffled grass, Arthur placed his hand on the patch where the boy had been. There was still a flicker of warmth left, showing that Merlin could not have been gone long. Whenever he got back, Arthur was certain that he was going to give him a piece of his mind about how much of an idiot he was to go wandering about at a time like this. Leaving his hand resting on the warmth, Arthur sighed. One day, perhaps, Merlin might realise what an idiot he was.

The prince had not been crouched there for long when the cracking of a twig bought him sharply back to his senses. Listening hard, Arthur could make out the definite sound of footsteps, heading straight his way. Knowing that he could not run with Merlin missing, Arthur slipped silently behind the tree, waiting with baited breath for the unknown person to enter the clearing. He did not have to wait long.

Shuffling cautiously, as if wary of what he might find, the mysterious figure slowly entered the prince's vision, causing his heart to race. This was not good, not good at all. If Tyson was here, then the other thieves could only be a matter of seconds away. Not knowing where Merlin was, Arthur couldn't risk leaving and then having to go back to rescue his servant _again_. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Arthur decided to use the only advantage that he still had on his side. With no option of retreat and completely weapon-less, there was only one option left open to the prince. Surprise.

Watching Tyson shuffle around, Arthur drew himself in closer to the tree, making sure that nothing gave away where he was. Tyson seemed to be searching for something; he was closely examining the ground where Arthur himself had sat only moments before. Deciding that now would be as good a time as any, Arthur sprang forward and crashed into Tyson's back, sending the man sprawling to the ground. Letting out a cry as the fall caught his injured hand, Tyson tried to move his position, but a knee in his back stopped him from going anywhere.

"Don't even think of making a sound," a venomous voice hissed in his ear, making the man's blood run cold. He knew that he had power with his voice, but that was magical. This man had power that came from confidence and the raw emotions that accompanied friendship. There was no doubt about which of the two was the stronger.

"Please, I'm here to help," Tyson whispered, aware that his son would have told Arthur all about his power, and so was anxious to make the prince feel more comfortable around him. With Arthur's own emotions raging so ferociously, Tyson was almost convinced that his weak power would not be able to influence the prince anymore, but he wasn't going to give Arthur any reason to doubt him. It was imperative that he had the trust of the prince in order to be able to help Merlin.

"Is that what you told Merlin?" the prince snarled back, but removed his knee all the same. He knew that the position was causing Tyson agony in his wrist and no matter how he felt about the man in front of him; Arthur was determined to show that he was better than they were. He would not intentionally hurt a defenceless man, not unless it was needed. Sitting up, but remaining on the ground, Tyson looked at Arthur pleadingly.

"Please. You have to believe me. I want to help him. He has no idea what he has gotten himself into."

Glancing away, Arthur swallowed hard. Something deep within him wanted to believe Tyson. It was as if the truth was shining out of the pleading eyes. However, something was holding Arthur back. Playing out in his mind, the prince could recall how he had felt when he had first laid eyes on the thief, how he had wanted to give Merlin away to him then and there. And even later, after the first attempted rescue, the expression on Merlin's face after the prince had knocked him out. They were not memories that were going to leave him any time soon, and it was all Tyson's fault.

Taking the prince's silence for uncertainty, Tyson pressed on, anxious to be able to set some of the wrongs right. From what little he had managed to gain from Merlin, he knew that the prince had no idea what his servant was really capable of. Tyson himself did not know the true extent of Merlin's powers. Indeed, he doubted whether anyone was aware, even the warlock himself. If there was one thing that he was going to do right, it was to protect his son's secret.

"We have to get Merlin out of here; the others still want to use him. Prince Arthur, I've heard the way he talks about you; I've never seen so much respect and loyalty in anyone. As his friend, I'm begging you, let me help."

"What do they want to use _Mer_lin for?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. Of all the explanations and excuses that he was expecting to come pouring from the thief's mouth, it was not that all of this was intentional and that Merlin was key to it all. That changed matters slightly.

"Erm…well, I…you've heard of the Casket of Ardon, I suppose?" At Arthur's nod – albeit a suspicious one – Tyson continued. For all of his magical powers, improvisation was not his strongest point, but the man could only hope that Arthur would not notice the slightest twisted version of the story.

"Legend says that only a few people have access to it. They have…have…to be born on a certain night when the stars are in the right aliment. Merlin is one such person."

"Typical," Arthur muttered, but Tyson couldn't help but notice that the prince was relaxing somewhat; his tense posture from before had faded away a little. "Of all the people in Camelot, it had to be Merlin, didn't it? The idiot can't even manage to get to work on time."

"I can honestly say that he got that from his mother," Tyson commented, smiling slightly. His strange paternal emotions were starting to come back in force. Perhaps it was because he was actually doing something to try to protect his son for once, rather than just trying to use him. Whatever the reason was, however, Tyson couldn't deny the love blossoming in his heart for the young warlock.

"So how exactly do you plan on helping him?" Arthur asked, knowing in his heart that Tyson truly did want to help. He had become somewhat observant when it came to noticing the love in a father's voice; he seemed to strain for it all the time. And however confused Tyson was feeling, Arthur knew which emotions raged within the thief, betraying what his true intentions were. This time, Arthur knew that he could trust his friend's father.

"Nothing much. Just get him as far away from here as possible. Neither of you have realised it, but you've come to the very place that he shouldn't be. You've come to the cave; it's just behind the wall."

"Simple plan," Arthur began, nodding softly. Quick and effective. There was, however, one thing missing…

"Only problem is I don't know where Merlin is. He seems to have vanished."

"No," Tyson whispered, fear echoing within his voice. Arthur frowned at the man; this was a fear deeper than just worry for Merlin. Fixing the thief with a penetrating gaze, the prince couldn't stop the accusing note creeping back into his voice.

"Alright, spill. What haven't you told me?"

"If Merlin makes it through the caves and finds the casket, he will be consumed by the magic that it possesses. I'm not sure whether or not he is strong enough to fight it off. This magic is pure evil, Arthur. If Merlin can't control it, I'm not sure what will happen."

"Great. So not only is my servant missing, now you tell me that he is behind the other side of a solid stone wall, about to be consumed by an all evil magical casket which, by the sounds of it, we can't stop. Anything else?"

"One thing," Tyson said quietly, his eyes fixed on something behind the prince, all the colour draining from his face. "The others have found us."

**Oooh, dramatic! :) Not too many chapters left to go, i'm sure you'll all be pleased to know.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry for the lack of action in the previous chapter! With any luck, this one might be better!**

Arthur spun quickly on the spot, his hand automatically flying to his belt. Grasping the empty air in vain, Arthur cursed when he realised that his weapon was far away from him at this point, leaving him as defenceless as the injured man beside him. The boss and Jackson were far from defenceless, both of them aiming crossbows at the pair in front of them.

"So nice of you to lead us straight here, Tyson," the boss sneered, malice written all over his face. "Only you seem to have given up your right to share in the prize. Pity. Oh, well, all the more for us."

Arthur shot a sideways glance at Tyson and was shocked by the loathing on the man's face. Everything that had happened had led the prince to assume that Tyson had supported the boss, but looking at him now, something had indeed changed. Maybe it was Merlin that had changed him, giving him something more than just greed as a stimulant for life.

Before he was able to comment on it, the boss barked out a command to Jackson and the two of them ushered the furious pair away from the wall, covering them with their weapons at all times. It appeared that they were not going to take any chances this time. With his back against the tree and a crossbow aimed at his chest, Arthur couldn't help but send a silent prayer to wherever Merlin was that he stayed safe.

*

Holding the burning torch in front of him, Merlin found himself tiptoeing down the winding tunnel. He must have already passed through three mazes of twisting stone already, instinct leading him in the right direction. He had no idea about what he was actually doing; it seemed that his magic was leading him on. Turning back didn't even cross his mind as he stole his way down through the mazes; any thoughts of Arthur searching for him back out in the opening, non-existent.

There was a strange atmosphere in the tunnels; magic seemed to pour out of every crack in the rough walls, sending thrills through the warlock as his magic responded likewise. It was cold, sending shivers through the boy as he crept along. But even the cold wasn't what made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was the sense that he was being watched, followed even.

It had started ever since Merlin had begun his precarious journey into the dark – the odd sensation here and there as he turned into yet another twisting passage. But over the last few moments, it seemed to have increased dramatically. Stopping suddenly as yet another chill passed over him, Merlin spun on the spot, staring frantically into the darkness. Even the flame seemed to be guttering as a shadow crept through the darkness towards the frightened boy. Nothing could be seen apart from a flickering shadow, an outline of something imposing, but hidden by the cloak of darkness.

With a sudden lunge, the shadow closed the distance between them. The flame of the torch shot high, burning bright, before turning black. Almost dropping the torch in surprise, Merlin stared at the black flame hiss threateningly. Deciding that something more needed to be done, Merlin placed the torch on the ground before muttering the spell that once again made his hand spring into light. Feeling that the creature was almost upon him, Merlin raised his hand frantically, ready to shout whatever spell came into his head first.

There was nothing there. Looking around wildly, Merlin used the light to take a good look around the whole cave. He could see nothing, yet knew that the creature was still around; his magic was telling him that it was once again advancing. His eyes as big as saucers, Merlin stared desperately into the darkness, knowing that the shadow was there somewhere, just waiting for him. With no warning at all, the black flame suddenly sprung back into vivid orange, causing the warlock to let out an explosive sigh of relief. Whatever it was, it had gone for now – the flame was evidence of that.

Plucking the burning torch from the ground, Merlin tried to still his racing heart, even as he took another step further into the caves. There was something powerfully magical deep within these caves, and the ever inquisitive warlock was determined to find it. Rational thoughts about the danger that the caves seemed to possess didn't cross the boy's mind as he ventured further into dangerous territory, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched.

Holding the burning flame high in one hand and using the other to feel his way along the wall, Merlin crept further and further in. The stone was rough under his palm, but strangely warm. Compared to the icy coldness penetrating everything within the cave, the unnatural warmth of the stone was something of a blessing, keeping feeling in the warlock's otherwise numb hands. By keeping one hand in contact with the wall, it also provided the boy with a sense of direction; he could feel the turns coming up that the flame had yet to reveal. Barely being able to see anything but the small flickering patch in front of him, Merlin was determined that he was not going to let go of the wall any time soon. It was his lifeline.

Following the wall, Merlin let his hand run over the stone, marvelling at the feel of it. Suddenly, the wall twisted sharply to the right, causing the warlock's arm to bend awkwardly. Letting out a hiss of pain as his chest twisted with the movement, Merlin stopped, breathing deeply to try and alleviate the pain. Squeezing his eyes shut, the boy felt rather than saw the creature return. His insides turned cold, yet he found himself sweating, his heart beating uncomfortably loudly in his chest. Wrenching his eyes open, Merlin saw with dismay that the flame was once again black. Whatever it was, it was back.

Swallowing hard, Merlin placed the torch back on the floor, even as his hand burst into light once more. Standing as still as possible, Merlin tried not to move as the shadow stole nearer and nearer. He would not be able to fight it if it simply disappeared again. But it took only seconds for the creature to be practically on top of him. Shouting a spell that had always served him well in the past, Merlin watched as the fire sprung from his palm, shooting gracefully across the cave and illuminating all. For one quick second, the warlock caught a glance of the creature, before the flames shot straight through it, leaving it unharmed. Suddenly nervous, Merlin stumbled back, slipping over the torch and landing with a thump on the hard stone. His breath came in quick gasps as the creature advanced; he couldn't breathe properly. Feeling as if he was suffocating, Merlin scrambled backwards, trying to put as much distance between him and the beast as he could.

It did no good. With a rising panic, Merlin realised that he was really struggling to draw breath now; each gasp was fainter than the last, and yet the shadow was still advancing, stretching menacingly out towards the boy. Hyperventilating, Merlin stared in horror at the close proximity of the shadow. This was it. He couldn't back away any further; the stone was already pressing hard into his back as it was. Yet his spell had no effect on the creature.

"_No Arthur here to save you this time, Merlin_," a voice whispered mockingly into his head, even as a few hot tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

The shadow had passed over the burning torch now, the black flame dancing as the presence flickered over it. With a sudden realisation, Merlin raised his hand and shouted a spell. Closing his eyes against the intensity of the light that shot from his hand, Merlin felt his breathing return to normal as the shadow let out an unearthly howl, and vanished. Slowly peering out, Merlin couldn't stop the enormous grin spread from ear to ear as he took in the orange flame burning brightly against the stone. The black flame had reminded him of something that Gaius had once said, about a shadow creature that paralysed its victims by drowning them in fear. This Samosha was supposed to be extremely strong and powerful, but yet, he, Merlin, had managed to defeat one. Making a mental note to tell Gaius when he got back, Merlin picked up the torch and carried on, his heart feeling lighter with every step.

Following the twisting passage, Merlin found himself almost doubling back on himself, for the passage turned unexpectedly and sharply. The feeling was stronger this side of the bend; it was as if he was getting closer and closer to the unknown source. Just as he was starting to doubt whether or not he should really be doing this, the warlock found himself in a cave. Stretching his neck back as far as it would go, Merlin tried to see the entire cave, but it was impossible – the size was just too vast. The parts that he could see were very beautiful; the whole place seemed to glitter in a way that Merlin knew could only be magic. Stepping forward tentatively into the opening, Merlin found that he was scarcely daring to breathe. Not from fright this time, but because the place was powerful, unnervingly so. Magic seemed to ooze from every inch, sending chills down the warlock's spine as his magic burst into life, propelling him forwards even further against his will.

With the onslaught of magic, Merlin's head was beginning to pound; it was so difficult to control himself. Every fibre of his being felt alive and jubilant, his magic begging to be allowed a free leash, to simply explode out of him. Merlin could already feel it building, but was worried of what might happen if he let it go. Would he ever be able to control himself again? Would the magic ever stop coming?

Without knowing what he was doing, Merlin found his feet moving again, heading straight towards the centre of the cave. With each step, the feelings intensified, and before long, the warlock was almost doubled over in the effort to stop the explosion of magic. He knew he should get out – anything this strong was a danger to anyone who crossed its path – yet his feet seemed to refuse to obey him, instead continuing on their own journey. Out of control, Merlin could do nothing but walk.

Looking around him in a desperate attempt to distract himself, Merlin gazed upon the beauty of the cave, noting that it didn't seem quite as magnificent with the pounding increasing dramatically within his skull. Then he looked down and gave a cry of horror, frantically trying to stop his feet, but to no avail. Scattered around him, various skeletons littered the floor, portraying the danger that this placed held. At a glance, Merlin could not tell exactly what had killed them – only Gaius would be able to do that – but it seemed almost as if they had burnt up. Maybe they experienced the same thing that he was now experiencing, only were unable to stop their magic? How many people had died in this place?

Not wanting to know the answer, Merlin instead drew his attention back to the fact that he was nearing the centre of the cave. However vast the cave seemed to be, it hadn't taken him long at all on his forced march to reach the middle. In the very centre stood a stone pillar, strange carvings decorating the outskirts. Merlin couldn't tell what the drawings were of, nor, quite frankly, did he care: his vision was drawn to what was resting on the top of the pillar. Suspended from the very top, floating in mid air, a casket slowly turned around and around. All of the natural light seemed to be reflecting of this one casket, sending patterns swirling into the cave and creating the mysterious effect that Merlin had noticed when he first came in. Taking in every inch of the elegant item, Merlin realised quite suddenly what he had just found. And the fact that he could not stop his feet carrying him ever closer through the graves of bodies, the boy couldn't help but cry out. This was not good.

"No, please, no." Muttering to himself as his journey continued, Merlin began to fight back against his magic. Forcing any distracting thoughts away, and deep within him, the warlock ordered his magic to obey him, but with no luck. Trying every trick he knew, Merlin found himself becoming desperate. Gaius had warned him against the Casket of Ardon, that it was evil as well as powerful. However good the warlock might consider himself to be, even after the things he had done to protect Arthur, he knew by the fact that he was still walking forward that he was no match for the ancient power of the Casket.

With a jolt, Merlin realised that he had stopped. He was standing next to the pillar, feeling the power radiate out from the Casket, calling to him. Once more trying to force the magic within him to listen to _him _instead of this mysterious object, Merlin felt himself begin tremble in the effort to stop himself. It was no good; his hand was already beginning to stretch out towards the casket.

As the first of the tears began to fall with the realisation that he had just done the very thing that he had swore to himself he wouldn't do, Merlin's fingertips brushed the edge of the Casket. Immediately, a shock radiated up his arm. But it didn't stop there; instead the warlock could feel the sensation travel through his arm and into his chest, straight into his heart. As if pushed by a sudden force, his hand shot forward and seized the casket, this time not feeling the magic penetrate him.

Looking down at the object grasped tightly in his fist, the warlock let out a satisfied smirk. The power of the Casket was his. All his. Eyes burning gold, the figure turned and seemed to almost glide back out of the cave and into the maze situated outside, his feet making no sound. Deep inside of him, Merlin sobbed. He had helped the thieves. He had lost control. He had lost…himself.

**Oh dear, i'm really not giving Merlin a break in this, am i? Please review! :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**_Wow, over 200 reviews, thank you so much!_**

"How long do we have to wait here, boss?" Jackson moaned, shifting his position once again. To Arthur's dismay, he still kept the two of them perfectly covered with the weapon. Sharing a despairing glance with Tyson, Arthur followed the boss's line of sight. He was watching the wall like a hawk; barely moving as the moon slowly began to sink beyond the horizon. The sky was already lightning, the early signs of dawn beginning as the sky began its transition from night to day. His father would have noticed that he was gone by now. Would Gaius stick to the story that they had agreed to, and tell the king that his son had simply gone hunting? There was no way of telling what was going on back in Camelot, not from this far out.

"Quiet," the boss snarled, not altering his positioning in the slightest. It was clear to Arthur that he was prepared to wait for as long as it took. Although what exactly they were waiting for, the prince was not sure. He had an inclination that it was something to do with the legendary Casket of Ardon – and Merlin at the same time – but was still trying to get his head around the fact that Merlin was one of the few that could get the thieves what they wanted. Seriously, _Mer_lin? Out of all of the people that it could be…

Tyson shifted position irritably next to him, causing Jackson to alter his aim to make the man stand still again. The change that had taken place within the man with the musical voice was something else that Arthur was still trying to get his head around. He didn't know that it was possible to change your emotions that quickly to that extent. Unless of course, he hadn't been supporting the thieves all along. But that didn't explain why he had betrayed Merlin to them in the first place. It was too much for the tired and anxious prince to comprehend. And being tired and anxious was not a mood that anyone wanted to find the crowned prince of Camelot in, Merlin could testify that much.

Keeping a careful eye on Jackson, Arthur let his foot roam around the forest floor until it found another foot. Pressing down sharply, Arthur still did not take his eyes off the armed man in front of him, only knowing by the small hiss that he had managed to get Tyson's attention.

"On three," he muttered, his lips barely moving as he whispered his plan to his companion. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur received the silent message that the man was ready. Counting down under his breath, Arthur prepared himself to spring, noting by the sudden tension that Tyson was doing the same.

"Three."

Suddenly, the two prisoners sprung into action and crashed into the surprised Jackson. The man barely had time to realise that they had even moved before he found himself flat on his back. Jackson seized the crossbow from the man's hands as Arthur deftly pulled free the short sword hanging from the man's belt. The boss slowly turned as Jackson was roughly pulled to his feet and shoved over to stand next to his master. Raising his own weapon, the three stood, eyes locked. No one dared to make the first move for fear it would be their last; they seemed to have reached a stalemate.

Suddenly, the air temperature dropped rapidly. His breath steaming the air in front of him, Arthur glanced at Tyson in concern, who in turn seemed to have gone deathly pale. Arthur felt strange, as if something was working its way into him, making him feel a rush on anger and hatred towards the boss in front of him.

"Is this your doing?" he hissed at Tyson, not being able to believe that Tyson would use his power on the prince again, not after spending the whole time trying to convince him that he could be trusted.

"No," Tyson whispered, his voice barely audible. To Arthur's great discomfort, the boss was smiling, an evil leer that seemed to distort his face even further.

"It's the boy," the boss crowed, malice delight echoing throughout his voice. "Seems you were right, Tyson. The boy is the one. He has obtained the casket. Now he will give it to me, or watch his friend and master die."

So saying, the boss lunged forward and grabbed Arthur. Too surprised to react, Arthur found himself once again backed against a tree, only this time, a knife was at his throat, the crossbow still steadily aimed at Tyson. The man looked horrified, as if unable to believe that it had all come to this.

"I wouldn't be so sure, if I were you," he called to his ex-master, who glared in return. "You know the legends as well as I do. There is no saying what sort of power Merlin will now possess and have at his command. You don't stand a chance."

Breaking off as the boss pressed his blade closer to the exposed flesh, Tyson watched the wall with baited breath. As everyone else also looked towards the stone, Arthur found himself also looking in that direction, curious about what was about to happen.

For one long moment, there was nothing. Then a tremendous rumbling sound filled the air, so intense that the prince was tempted to cover his ears. Only the idea of showing weakness in front of the boss prevented him from doing it, but even so, nothing could stop him from flinching slightly as the wall was torn apart as if it were no more than the curtains hanging over Arthur's own window.

"It can't be," Arthur whispered, more to himself than anyone around him. For framed in the centre of the opening torn into the rock, a single figure stood, tall and proud. There could be no denying that this figure was Merlin, but it was not the servant that Arthur called his friend. The boy was deathly white, but almost seemed to sparkle at the same time, holding himself with an ease that gave no sign of his earlier injuries. It was his eyes that captivated the prince the most. The friendly blue had vanished, leaving a burning orange in it's place, making his eyes look like smouldering pits of fire.

"Stop there," the boss called, trying to sound intimidating. But it didn't fool anyone. Arthur could tell that the callous thief was just as surprised as the rest of them over the change that had taken place. "I'm warning you, hand over the casket and your master will live. Refuse to do so, and I'll kill him here and now."

Arthur barely noticed the knife pressing a little deeper into his neck as Merlin looked towards the boss. Jackson scurried to his master's side, obviously afraid of the changes that had taken place in the boy that he had so recently beaten up and almost killed. Merlin merely looked at the two men, seemingly totally unfazed by the fact that the boss was about to kill his best friend. Heart beating fast, Arthur felt the roof of his mouth go dry when he realised that Merlin was clearly not going to hand anything over. If that mysterious figure was indeed still Merlin…

With no movement apart from a mere flicker of his burning eyes, both the boss and Jackson were sent flying in opposite directions. Watching their flight open mouthed, Arthur could barely register what he had just seen. There could be no denying it: Merlin had just used magic. Magic powerful enough at least to knock the two men out, although the angle that they were sprawled out made Arthur wonder if indeed they had only been knocked out and not worse.

"Merlin," Arthur whispered, stumbling forward towards the figure. He stopped dead when Merlin looked at him without recognition, wondering if he was about to be the next body to be tossed. Swallowing hard, Arthur froze, barely noticing Tyson come to stand beside him, crossbow still in hand. When neither of them moved, Merlin turned from the men and faced the wall. Spreading his arms wide, he began to chant in a deep voice, a language that Arthur had never heard before flowing freely from his manservant's mouth. The stone responded, groaning and shuddering as the gap widened further still.

"What's he doing?" Arthur breathed, not daring to raise his voice in case the figure turned his attention back onto them.

"Opening the gateway for all manner of creatures from hell to come through," Tyson muttered back, sounding resigned. It was as if he had expected something like this to happen from the very beginning. Arthur couldn't believe how calm he sounded, as if this was just an everyday experience for the man.

"We can't let him. We have to do something!" Without waiting for Tyson's answer, Arthur stumbled forward a few steps. Instantly, the warlock's head snapped around and he pierced Arthur with his glowing stare. Unfazed, Arthur simply raised his chin and stared back. _It's not Merlin; it's a sorcerer_, the prince told himself, running through his normal strategies for dealing with a magic user. Annoyingly, nearly all of them seemed to involve him being properly armed, well rested and more often than not with his knights behind him. Not to mention the fact that the sorcerer wasn't normally his best friend.

"As the crown prince of Camelot, I order you to stop. Surrender, and the penalty will be swift. Resist, and you shall pay for it."

Trying desperately not to turn and run as Merlin looked at him, Arthur forced himself to look back into the burning pits, knowing that he would regret it if he didn't. It was so difficult though. How could Merlin be a sorcerer? He couldn't get from one place to another without tripping up. It made no sense to the prince, none at all. But yet the evidence was standing there in front of him. Merlin could use magic, and he had kept it from the prince for all this time. Arthur had thought that they were friends. Maybe this is what friendship meant? Betrayal and hurt? After all, it wasn't as if the prince was an expert in the matter. He hadn't many true friends.

Suddenly, Merlin outstretched a pale arm, a single finger pointing in Arthur's direction. With a startled yelp that he would later deny, Arthur felt himself rising off the floor, his heart thudding hard as his feet left the security of the ground. He was dimly aware of Tyson shouting something, trying to talk some sense back into Merlin. But this wasn't the Merlin that either of them knew. This was someone completely different. The only thing that remained was that this sorcerer looked like Merlin. After that, any similarities stopped.

"Merlin, stop! This isn't you! You're stronger than this!" Tyson's pleadings seemed muffled to the prince as he slowly began to rotate, feeling a fright that he never knew he was capable of. It wasn't just the fact that he was up against a sorcerer. He had been in that situation too often to be comfortable with, especially as the use of magic could get someone killed in Camelot. It was the fact that it was Merlin.

"Please, Merlin." Suddenly Tyson's voice dropped, and a cold silence seemed to reverberate around the clearing. Arthur fixed his eyes on Merlin, watching as the figure watched his father, motionless. One hand was still outstretched, keeping the prince floating, but his eyes were locked on Tyson. The rage spiralling within seemed to flicker for a moment. Arthur could have sworn that, just for a second, a slither of blue resurfaced. But he wasn't so sure, for the next instance the raging inferno was back, glaring at the man trying to prevent him on his mission.

"Tyson, watch out!" Arthur called down, causing Merlin to look towards him once again. As if annoyed by the prince's interruption, the warlock turned his eyes upon his friend, causing him to rise higher into the air. Starting to feel giddy, the prince did not notice Tyson's smooth movements; his eyes were fixed on the figure.

"Merlin," he choked, shocked about how far this was going. Somehow, he had assumed that Merlin was still there, that he wouldn't hurt the prince because the boy that Arthur knew so well was buried in there, fighting for release. But the look on the warlock's face made Arthur doubt himself. Maybe this _was_ Merlin, that he had indeed been hiding this secret for all of those months.

Merlin ignored his friend's pleads, instead causing him to rotate faster and faster. Squeezing his eyes shut, Arthur waited for the inevitable. It was only a matter of time before he himself joined the motionless thieves crumpled at opposite ends of the clearing.

Suddenly, Arthur dropped, hitting the ground hard. Rolling to break his fall, the prince sprung to his feet, looking desperately around for answers. It didn't feel like it had been an intentional drop, more like Merlin had lost control. He had seen perfectly well that which the warlock was capable of; the boss lying some way off was evidence. But his fall had been gentle, nothing at all like the ferocious attack from before. Staring around wildly, the prince felt his breath catch in his throat as he looked upon Tyson.

Slowly lowering the crossbow, Tyson glanced at the ground, a deep sadness etched deep within his face. Swallowing hard, Arthur could have sworn that he saw tears glistening on the thief's face. Feeling totally confused about what was going on; Arthur let his eyes follow the line that the crossbow had been facing.

**Dundundun, sorry, yeah, another cliffhanger, i'm evil like that! *evilgrin***


	20. Chapter 20

"No! What have you done?"

Scrambling across the ground as fast as he could, Arthur dropped to his knees beside the still form. Reaching forward, Arthur grabbed the still outstretched hand, frantically trying to feel for a pulse. The hand felt like ice; Arthur was unable to feel the reassuring beat of a heart.

"No," he whispered again, softer this time, his voice cracking. Cradling the black head in his lap, Arthur stared unseeingly across the still body. Embedded directly above his heart, Tyson's arrow had stopped the power of the casket and freed Merlin from its influence. At the cost of his life.

"Merlin. Why didn't you tell me?" Arthur whispered, feeling the tears begin to escape from his eyes. Biting his lip, Arthur rocked himself backwards and forwards, emotionally drained.

"Arthur?" Tyson stood behind the prince and rested his hand against the back of Arthur's head comfortingly. "I'm so sorry. The casket is too powerful; there was no telling what Merlin would have done. I had to stop him somehow."

"What gave you the right to decide what happened to him? He's _my _servant; I'm supposed to protect him." Kneeling upright, Arthur pulled himself away from Tyson's hand, suddenly feeling angry.

"I'm his father," the man said softly, wanting Arthur to understand. He _needed _the prince to understand, for if Arthur did not forgive him, then Tyson was not sure that he would be able to forgive himself. He was now responsible for not only giving Merlin life, but also taking it away again. How many fathers could claim that?

"You may be his parent, but you are not his father," Arthur spat, glaring at the man. He couldn't explain it, but the prince was seething. He had the limp form of his best friend cradled in his lap, and the killer standing directly above him. Slowly climbing to his feet, Arthur felt a smug sense of satisfaction as Tyson took a nervous step back, clearly anxious about what the prince was going to do next.

"Gaius is more of his father than you will ever be. I bet you're not aware of how much you terrified him on your first day in Camelot, are you? The day you walked into my room, demanding to know where he was. He came begging me to hide him from you."

Tyson met Arthur's stare, not attempting to stop the tears streaming down his face. A few mere hours ago, he would not have cared about the fact that his son was now lying lifeless in front of him…but now? After everything that had happened? Tyson felt his heart breaking, and it made him realise what is was like to once again _feel_ after all of those years. Arthur glared at him; he had no business being weak, not when the prince wanted to take out all of his emotions on the figure in front of him. Arthur wanted to rage and shout, and yet Tyson stood there as if he had already been defeated. It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice losing any of its magical ability as it cracked with the emotion, causing Tyson's knees to buckle. Within seconds, he found himself kneeling on the floor, unable to stop the torrent of emotions from pouring forth. Watching the broken man in front of him, Arthur felt a cold sense of detachment. Why should he care that Merlin was dead? He was a sorcerer. He had lied to Arthur ever since he had known him, probably just pretending to be his friend so that he could get close to the prince of Camelot.

"He cared for you, Arthur," Tyson said suddenly, almost seeming to realise what was going through the prince's head.

"No he didn't," Arthur responded coldly, turning his gaze away from the man. "If he cared, then why did he not tell me that he was a sorcerer?"

Tyson watched Arthur closely. He could tell that the prince was deeply upset about the loss of his friend; the grief was clear in his face, despite his best attempts to hide it. Tyson sighed: he had just taken the man's best friend away from him, as well as letting him discover that the said friend was the very thing that the prince had been taught to fear. What on earth do you say to someone who had just had all of that thrust upon them in such a way? Suddenly, Tyson felt his head clear. There was something that he could say, something that could help Arthur come to terms with all of this.

"He didn't tell you because he isn't one." Ignoring the unbelieving snort that came from Arthur, Tyson pressed on quickly, not letting the prince interrupt, "Honestly, he is not. The casket has the power of corruption. It transfers its magical powers to whoever holds it, giving them the ability to use magic. But they can't control it; the casket takes command over them, sending its evil straight into their hearts. They have no control; this is what has happened to Merlin, why he was able to use the magic to attack the others. The casket gave him magic."

Desperate to believe Tyson's explanation, Arthur once again turned back to the man. It had to be true. Arthur needed it to be true in order to let himself mourn his friend. He had been trying to bury the emotions in him in the light that Merlin was a sorcerer, that he was the enemy. But if that wasn't the case…

"Swear to me that you are telling the truth," Arthur whispered, his voice barely audible. Despite the quiet tones, Tyson caught the desperate hint of hope, the need to be reassured. The tone made Tyson think. The prince was little more than a child really, they both were.

Before Tyson could respond, a low groan filled the air. Snapping his eyes back down to the ground, Arthur was sure that he was seeing things. Merlin was stirring. Regardless of the fact that he had an arrow sticking out of his chest, the boy was moving.

"Merlin?" Arthur dropped back down to his knees by the boy's head, watching in amazement as the eyelids began to flicker open, revealing a welcoming blue.

"Ar…Arthur?" Merlin croaked, groaning. Every part of him hurt – most of all his chest. Looking down, Merlin's eyes widened as he took in the arrow.

"What happened? The casket? The boss? Where –?"

"Hush, Merlin." Tyson dropped to his knees beside his son, unable to believe it himself that his son was still alive. He wasn't sure how this was possible; he only knew that it was going to be tricky to explain it to Arthur, considering that which he had just told the prince. Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder, Tyson prevented Merlin from moving, watching as his son gazed up at Arthur with frightened eyes. He clearly had no idea what had just been happening.

"Merlin, how the hell are you even alive?" Arthur demanded. Tyson smiled slightly at the bluntness of the prince's question. Personally, he didn't think that he could have worded it better himself.

Ignoring Tyson's proffered hand, Merlin slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. Steeling himself, Merlin looked down, feeling sick at taking in the sight of the arrow sticking out of his own chest. Arthur's exclamation as he saw Merlin sit up did not go unnoticed, yet the warlock chose to ignore it. Shakily stretching out a hand, the warlock reached down. Shutting his eyes so that he did not have to see himself do this, Merlin grasped the arrow, and pulled.

Letting out a sharp gasp of pain as the weight was removed, Merlin could sense that both Arthur and Tyson were watching him intently. His shirt ripped as the arrow tore itself free and caused all three of them to gasp in surprise.

Attached to the other end of the arrow, a small stone had a hole in the direct centre. Unbidden, a memory sprung into Merlin's mind. He remembered placing the stone in a hurry in the top of his bag as he furiously packed to leave with his father, only to pull it out again and place it in his pocket, wanting to keep a part of his life in Camelot close to his heart as he left. Gaius had always said that it was mysterious and that its use would one day be revealed. It seemed today was that day.

"Didn't Gaius give that to you on your birthday?" Arthur questioned, his mind reeling over everything that had just happened. Merlin mutely nodded, cradling the stone in the palm of his hand once more. Tears swam in his eyes as he gazed at the stone that had saved his life. What had he been thinking, running away from Camelot like that? Everything that he cared about, apart from his mother, was there. And yet he had left everything behind almost without a second thought.

Merlin eye's roamed the clearing, obviously searching for answers as to what had happened. Before long, they rested upon the crumbled form of the boss. Seeing Merlin's face drain of the little colour that it had managed to regain, both Tyson and Arthur followed his gaze.

"What did I do?" Merlin whispered hoarsely, trembling. He had no memory of anything that had taken place, yet part of him knew that he was responsible for the condition that these men were in. And to have been able to do that must have meant that he used magic. In front of Arthur.

"It's alright, Merlin," Tyson said reassuringly, once more laying his hand on the warlock's thin frame and feeling the tremors rock the body. But it was going to take more than Tyson to reassure the horrified young man. The thief was sure that Merlin had realised that he must have used magic in front of Arthur, but could not say anything, just in case that wasn't the situation. Giving Arthur a meaningful look over Merlin's head, Tyson tried to convey the message that it was up to the prince if they were going to have any luck at all in calming Merlin down. Receiving the message, Arthur sighed. Now was the moment of truth. Did he trust what Tyson had told him? Or did he act upon what he had seen?

Dropping to his knees by his servant's side, Arthur decided. He could see that Merlin was shaking, although from what, the prince was not sure. His eyes were frightened and pleading, reminding Arthur of the boy who had flung himself through Arthur's door, begging for him to hide him; the boy that had suffered so much over the last few hours. If he was indeed a sorcerer, then why did he not stop Jackson and the boss? Deciding that Tyson was right, Arthur rested his hand on top of Merlin's trembling one, stilling the tremors.

"Merlin?" he said softly, and the servant looked up at him, eyes swimming in tears. "Merlin, honestly, it's alright. Tyson has explained everything."

"He has?" Merlin whispered, looking back towards Tyson. Just what exactly had he explained? "Arthur, I…"

"No, Merlin, you do not owe me an explanation. Your father has explained about the effect that the Casket has on people. I know that it wasn't you, that it was the casket which was using magic, just acting _through_ you. Merlin, listen to me. Everything is okay."

Merlin swallowed hard. He could scarcely believe it. He had just got away with performing magic in front of Arthur, and was now being told that everything was okay. Gritting his teeth, the warlock pushed himself to his feet, sucking in sharply as he felt the full scale of his injuries come flooding back to him. Apart from the one incident in the cave, he hadn't felt them for a while. But now? With the relief that things were finally over, his condition was reminding him intensely exactly what he had been through.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked, also climbing to his feet. He wasn't sure whether it was the strange light as the sun began to climb, but he was almost certain that Merlin had gone a colour that could best be described as green and appeared to be swaying on the spot slightly.

"It's over," he stated softly. Quite suddenly, his eyes rolled back into his head and the warlock fell backwards, testing Arthur's reactions as the prince dived forward to catch the unconscious boy before he hit the floor. Lowering him gently to the ground, Arthur stepped back as Tyson examined his son, noting how gentle the man was being. There was certain something positive that had emerged from all of this, that was for certain. Merlin, once again, had a father.

"He seems to be alright, apart from the obvious," Tyson reported, causing Arthur's shoulders to sag in relief. It was so typical for Merlin to survive through all of this and then go and faint, once it was _over_.

"I think that everything just got a bit much for him. We should get him away from this clearing, take him somewhere safer."

"My horse is not far from where you made camp," Arthur told him, once more slinging the warlock over his shoulders. Although he was conscious of the fact that Merlin was badly hurt, not having to hear him whimper in pain as Arthur carried him certainly made things a lot easier.

"He can get some sleep there and then we'll take him back to Camelot when he awakens. He's probably just tired; he didn't exactly get much sleep last night."

"He didn't get any the night before either; we were too busy talking," Tyson added, bending down to pluck something from the ground. Arthur didn't see him, however; he was too busy navigating his way around the thick undergrowth, heading in what he desperately hoped was the right direction. Although he had found a new sense of respect for Tyson (the man had gambled everything to help them), the prince still wanted to maintain some of the control, and heading in the wrong direction was not the best way to do it.

The two men navigated their way quickly through the forest and soon found themselves back at Arthur's camp. It seemed a lifetime ago that the prince had tethered his horse, anxious about finding Merlin and apologising. He couldn't believe that it was really only hours ago: time seemed to have all blended together. That meant that he had only been away from Camelot for about a day, no one would know that he was missing, not if Gaius had indeed reported that the prince had gone hunting for a couple of days.

Laying Merlin carefully down beside the embers that had been his fire; Arthur watched the still form for a moment, reassuring himself that the steady rising and falling of the servant's chest was a clear indication that he was still alive. That alone seemed to be a miracle.

**Wow, only two more chapters after this...**


	21. Chapter 21

**Here it is, the penultimate chapter! Enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think!**

Before long, a roaring fire was chasing away the nightmares of the previous day. Sitting companionably side-by-side, Arthur and Tyson chatted quietly, keeping half an eye on Merlin at the same time. Tyson was confident that he was going to be fine, especially once they got him back to the court physician. Apparently, the strain of the casket on top of everything else had sent the warlock over the edge, his body shutting down as it tried to cope. Arthur didn't blame him if he was honest; he was quite looking forward to the welcoming pull of sleep himself.

"What will you do now?" he asked Tyson, curious as to what the ex-thief's plans were now his old lifestyle was left behind him and he was once more reunited with his son.

"I'm not sure," Tyson pondered, staring into the depths of the dancing flames, as if they were going to provide the answers that he so desperately wanted. "I'm not coming back with you to Camelot, that's for sure. But I think that you were already aware of that, weren't you?" At Arthur's nod, the man continued, hurting for what he had to say, but knowing deep down that it was the best thing for everyone, "You were right – Gaius is more of a father to Merlin that I could ever be. If I leave, he can begin to put this behind him, return to his normal life. Hunith made a wise decision sending him to Gaius. If I stay, I'm afraid what happened here will haunt him forever. I could never forgive myself if that was the case."

"How will you tell Merlin?" Arthur asked, prodding the fire with a stick. It wasn't that the fire really needed stoking, only that the prince was slightly uncomfortable about how deep the conversation was, especially considering that they were talking about his manservant.

"I'm not," Tyson stated quietly, his eyes now fixed on the sleeping figure on the other side of the fire. Arthur spared a sideways glance at the man and realised suddenly how old he was looking. His eyes were sad, yet his mouth was set in a way that Arthur knew only too well. It seemed that the father was just as stubborn as the son.

"Arthur, I have to go now, before he wakes up. You probably know this better than anyone, but when Merlin wants something, he will move heaven and earth to get it; the last few days have taught me that much about my boy. He will ask me to stay and I will not be able to deny him. It's better if I go now. And whatever you do, don't you try and stop me as well. I don't want to, but I will resort to using my power if it comes to it."

"Don't worry," Arthur told him, climbing to his feet and offering the man his hand. Pulling Tyson upright, the prince gripped his forearm as a sign of friendship, smiling softly when Tyson returned the gesture. "You're probably right about everything. I'll tell him, although I have no idea how."

Tyson smiled fondly at the prince. He barely knew the young man, but already was certain about what a fine king Arthur would someday make. And his son was going to help it all to happen.

"Look after him," he whispered.

At Arthur's nod, Tyson spun on his heel and disappeared swiftly. As he vanished into the forest, Arthur watched him go, feeling sorry for the man. This was the second time that he had to give up his family. Arthur may not have had a close relationship with Uther, but he could still imagine how much that had to hurt. He did not have long to reminisce, however, a soft moan bought his mind back to reality.

"Where are we? Arthur? What's going on?"

"Easy, Merlin," Arthur said, walking around the fire to see his friend sit up slowly, looking around him, confused. "We're safe. We're back at my camp and in a moment, we're going to get you back to Gaius before you do something girly like faint again."

"Where is he, Arthur?" Merlin asked quietly, seeing straight through Arthur's attempts to lighten the situation.

"Gone, Merlin, he's gone. He didn't know how to tell you, but he wants you to go back to the life you had, back with Gaius. I think that he wants you to forget all about this."

"No!" Merlin cried, jumping to his feet. Taking a moment to stop the world spinning sickeningly before him, Merlin took off into the forest. Arthur sighed in dismay; this hadn't gone as well as he had hoped. He could hear Merlin searching the forest for his father, calling Tyson's name over and over again. The prince could hear the hurt in his voice, knew that Merlin would not stop searching until he had found the man.

Striding after him into the trees, Arthur didn't have to search for long at all to discover his servant. Merlin was trying to fight his way through a particularly thick piece of hedgerow, determined to get through. Using his hunting instincts, Arthur was quite impressed that the boy had been able to pick up Tyson's trail at all; it was well hidden. Maybe he shouldn't have taught the warlock how to track quite so well. But then again, that day in the forest, when it had seemed like a good idea when Merlin had managed to get himself lost, Arthur had no idea that this would be the moment that he regretted showing his servant how to examine the forest for clues.

"Merlin, stop! He said that it was for the best, for everyone's sake if he left. Don't think for a moment that this wasn't hurting him too. For God's sake, Merlin, I said stop!" Grinding his teeth together in annoyance at the stubbornness of the servant, Arthur glanced away despairingly. Merlin was still battling with the undergrowth, his shoulders shaking slightly as the tears poured down his cheeks. He wanted to know his father, get to play the role that he had always been denied, be allowed to be a proper son. But he had left, without even saying goodbye.

His frustration levels rising as he realised that Merlin had no intention of stopping, despite his orders, Arthur strode forward. Mindful of the boy's injuries, the prince seized Merlin around the middle and bodily hauled him away from the undergrowth, ducking under the flailing arms as he tried to free himself.

"Let me go, Arthur! I have to go after him! Let me _go!_"

Shutting his ears to Merlin's struggles, Arthur dragged the servant back to the clearing. Pushing him towards the horse, Arthur ordered him onto it. He didn't want to have to be like this; he wanted to be able to comfort Merlin, tell him how sorry he was that it had come to this. But he knew that with the mood that the servant was in, words would simply go unheard. He had promised Tyson that he would look after the boy, that he would take him back to Gaius. Although Merlin was never to know this, Arthur was going to make sure that he kept this promise to Tyson, only praying that Merlin would forgive him in time.


	22. Chapter 22

**Blimey, here it is...the last chapter! :( Be prepared for a big a/n at the end! Enjoy!**

The journey back was an uncomfortable one. Merlin stared stonily ahead, the muscle in his jaw working over time in an effort to hold his tongue. Walking beside the horse, Arthur couldn't help but give Merlin swift, searching looks from time to time, worried by his silence. It was unlike him to be this quiet, an indication of how upset he was. The only time that he had spoken at all was to ask if Arthur wanted to ride the horse. After being told that he was the one who was injured and would accordingly slow them down if he had been walking, Merlin had fallen silent again, his thoughts far away. Perhaps he had overreacted back in the clearing? He had so desperately wanted to find Tyson that he had not once considered what the two of them may have talked about whilst he had been unconscious. This could easily be as hard for Arthur as it was for him. Perhaps he should apologise to the prince for the way that he had behaved?

With both of their mind's preoccupied, the journey back was relatively quick. Helping Merlin down from the horse, Arthur handed the reigns to the stable boy, ignoring the curious glances that were being cast in their direction. Merlin seemed to have softened a little and even allowed Arthur to help him to Gaius's chambers. Unbeknownst to the two boys, a figure watched their journey back into Camelot, smiling softly at their return. Although part of her was glad that they had safely returned, part of Lady Elizabeth felt a sadness that she knew was wrong. There was no way that Gaius would leave with them now, not after his world had returned. Turning away from the window, the Lady quickly regained her composure and headed towards her chambers, preparing to tell her husband that they would be leaving tonight, alone.

Although he would never admit it, Merlin was glad that Arthur was prepared to help him to the physician's quarters; he would have never managed it there alone. The prince seemed quiet, and horrible thoughts plagued Merlin about why this was. What if he was angry with him for the way in which he had reacted back in the clearing? After everything, the last thing that Merlin wanted was to have an annoyed Arthur. He had a feeling that he was going to need his friends more than ever in the next couple of days, and Arthur was the only one who would know why.

"Sire," Merlin began hesitantly, worried about the reaction he would receive. Arthur glanced sideways at him, as if judging what his next actions were going to be. "Arthur, I'm sorry for the way that I acted. I thought that he was going to stay, that we would be a proper family again. You were only trying to help. I know that now."

Arthur smiled, thankful that the warlock didn't hate him for his interference back in the clearing. He knew that it was hard for him, that it would remain hard for a while. To be given a chance at something, and then to have it taken away like that was unimaginable.

"You idiot, Merlin. I would have been surprised if you had acted in any other way. The man was your father, and regardless of what he has done in the past, he loves you. Don't ever think that I would get in the way of that."

Nudging the door to Gaius's chambers open with his foot, Arthur led Merlin inside and sat him down on one of the stools. The physician was slouched over the bench, snoring lightly. Even in sleep, he looked so sad and withdrawn. Parchment was littered everywhere, but thankfully, Merlin did not notice what was written. Arthur did, and subtly sitting on the edge of the bench, he used his arm to sweep them all off the table and onto the floor, out of eyesight. It would be no good now for Merlin to be reminded of how Gaius still viewed Tyson.

The two boys sat in a comfortable silence for a while, just waiting for Gaius to wake up. There was no need to talk; enough had been said already. It was nice just to be able to sit down with no fear surrounding them. It didn't take long for Gaius to stir, blearily opening his eyes just enough to take in the sight of his nephew sitting across from him. Before long, the joyous physician had treated every single one of Merlin's wounds, as well as tending to any Arthur had picked up on his journey. Gaius seemed to find everything highly amusing, especially Arthur's attempt to bandage Merlin's rib with his shirt, although the old man did praise the prince for his quick thinking, scaring them both by saying that it most definitely saved Merlin's life.

Arthur explained everything that had happened, everything that he was aware of, anyway. Merlin stayed remarkably quiet throughout the whole thing, only clearing up a couple of issues from when Arthur had not been present. He was back in Camelot, back with Gaius, yet strangely didn't quite feel like he was truly home yet. Part of him was still searching the forest, looking everywhere for the father that had once again disappeared from his life. Suddenly, he was aware that all was silent: Arthur had finished speaking, and both he and Gaius were watching the warlock.

"Go to bed, Merlin." Gaius told him softly. Arthur's tale had allowed him to see that Tyson had been bought around by his son, that the two of them had begun to connect in a way that only time would allow to complete. Time that they didn't have. He knew that Merlin was glad to be back, and had he truly been presented with any other option, this was the one that he would choose. It was just going to take time for the warlock to realise that for himself.

Merlin stood and slowly walked up to his room, nodding to Arthur as he passed, who smiled back. The prince stood to leave himself, desperate to snuggle into his big, warm bed and catch up on some dramatically denied sleep. Pushing his door open, Merlin made to collapse straight onto his bed, when something caught his eye. In the middle of his pillow, a blue stone rested, a hole directly in the centre of it. Strange and mysterious, the light glinted off the stone, sending spirals deep within the magnificent colour. Attached, a long cord of leather was threaded through the hole. Picking the stone up, Merlin carefully placed it around his neck, letting it come to a rest directly above his heart. Tyson hadn't really left him; he would be here always for his son. He was there, in Merlin's heart.

Smiling, Merlin carefully laid down on his bed, mindful of his smarting ribs. Exhaling slowly, the warlock drank in the smells and sights of his room. With the stone resting smoothly against his chest, Merlin felt complete. He really was home.

**Well, there we go, another story over and done with! :( Can't believe how quickly this has gone, it's spooky really! A huge thank you to all of you who have taken the time to review, especially those who have reviewed every chapter! It has meant so much to me, honestly! Getting your feedback has made it all worthwhile.**

**A special thank you to MBM for betaing this for me!**

**A huge thank you to piratemoose for reviewing every chapter, despite having already read the entire thing! *hugehugs***

**Don't worry though (or perhaps you should :D) i've got more ideas in the works at the moment. Although when i'll have time to write them could be the bigger problem. Anyway, ta ta for now!**

**Don't forget to review! :)**


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